


I Taste Pain and Regret In Your Sweat

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 16-Year-Old Harry, 19-Year-Old Louis, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bondage, Bottom Harry, Broken Louis, Chaptered, Dark, Disturbing Themes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Escape, Fluff and Smut, Forced Feminization, Forced Prostitution, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kidnapping, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oral Sex, Pain, Panties, Prostitute Harry, Prostitute Louis, Prostitute Zayn, Rimming, Romance, Sex Work, Sexual Content, Shower Sex, Submissive Harry, Subspace, Top Louis, Trauma, Underage Prostitution, handjobs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-13 23:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3400844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“My name’s Niall. I don’t know why you’re here. I don’t think there’s a system to who gets brought here. Maybe… they found you cute or maybe you slept with someone and they told one of our superiors that you’re a good fuck. Anyway… They’re always looking for new twinks so they can replace the boys who are aging out of that title,” Niall chuckles sadly, staring at the floor. Harry feels his stomach drop. </p><p>	“Have I been forced into prostitution?” Harry asks, eyes wide. Niall just looks at him with his vibrant blue eyes, hesitating to answer. </p><p>	“Sort of,” Niall replies. And that isn’t reassuring at all. </p><p> </p><p>  <i>or the au where Harry is kidnapped and forced into an underground prostitution business and falls in love with a boy broken from loss. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There’s a drum in Harry’s head that’s thumping painfully, sending needles into his skull with every hit. There’s a hurricane in his stomach and there are lights spinning behind his eyelids. He cracks open one of his eyes and can hardly see anything. He feels a slight vibration and can make out two dark obstructions in front of him. He’s in a car, he thinks. He shuts his eyes and tries to calm the feeling of nausea that’s coming and going viciously. 

The ride loses it’s smoothness and becomes rough. It takes so much control to not puke all over the car floor. Harry doesn’t even know whose car he’s in. He can’t remember. 

The car brakes abruptly and Harry is sent flying onto the car floor. He falls on his left hand and pain shoots through him. He lets out a scream and goes to hold his wrist before he feels a hand around his ankle, yanking him out of the car. He hits the floor and manages to save his skull from much harm. “Did you break his fucking wrist?” A man’s voice spits angrily. If Harry wasn’t occupied with the pain in his wrist, he’d look up but he curls in on himself and tries to cry away the feeling. “Whatever. Get him the fuck up.” 

“N-No!” Harry wails as someone grabs him and unintentionally moves his wrist in a way that causes more pain. His bottom half still hasn’t regained any of its feeling so he’s hauled through the dark woods with his arms around these two burly men that he hasn’t yet recognized. 

His head hasn’t stopped throbbing, his stomach acids have made it to the back of his throat, and his wrist is turning purple. The 16-year-old wonders what decisions he’s made that left him here in this situation. 

His skull hangs down, staring at his feet that are being dragged over tree roots and rocks. He looks up when the men stop moving and are stood in front of an ivy-covered wall. One of the men, the one who wears a brown coat, let go of him, leaving him only one side of support. Harry hears the man still holding him hiss spitefully. The other man is pushing aside the sheet of ivy, revealing two brown doors. Elevator doors. “Wh-what’s happening?” Harry croaks out with no response. Instead, he’s jerked forward into the double-door elevator. The coat-wearing man lets go of the ivy and it falls back like a curtain as he steps into the elevator and presses a button. Harry’s body is falling into an extreme discomfort that he can’t bring himself to put up a fight. He knows that something is wrong. But his body is fatigued and burning up.

The elevator cheerfully _dings_ as if to mock him and the other doors slide open. The journey continues. Harry’s feet drag over soft maroon carpet as the men walk him through a long corridor with white doors on both sides. Their trail seems to go on for ages before they stop at a door, unlock it, and get Harry inside. There, the two men lay him down on a bed, throw a blanket on him, and leave him. The room dims as the door is shut. 

Harry squirms under the cover before completely throwing it off with his good hand. “You should keep it on,” says the figure that grows as it moves closer to Harry. Considering that he knows he’s fucked, Harry can’t bring himself to be afraid. Nothing else could go wrong. “You need to sweat it out. You’ll feel better in the morning.” 

This voice sounds friendlier than the two men who brought him in. A blond boy emerges from the shadows and reaches for Harry’s blanket, pulling it back over him. The boy stares at Harry, sweaty, shaking Harry. He gives the curly-haired boy an apologetic look before returning to his side of the room. Harry doesn’t sleep until his body shuts down and succumbs to a terrifying numbness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still writing this fic and not quite sure where it's going to go yet. But we will see. There's a lot I don't like about this story anymore but I'd rather not leave it unfinished and left in a dark corner. Anyway, not much to this chapter but there will be more in the next. Thanks!
> 
> -Brendan .x


	2. Chapter 2

**Day One**

The room is still dark when he wakes up. He blinks away the sleepiness in his eyes before trying to sit up but failing when he realizes there’s an IV with short tubing in his arm and his wrist is wrapped in an ace bandage. He notices that the blond boy, who’s wearing only boxers and a black silk robe with a gold trim, is watching him. Though not entirely sure he wants the answer, he asks, “Where am I?” 

The blond boy lets out a shaky sigh. “It’s called a lot of things,” he answers. “This isn’t a place you want to be in. You’ll figure that out soon enough.” 

“Who are you? And—And why am I here?” 

“My name’s Niall. I don’t know why you’re here. I don’t think there’s a system to who gets brought here. Maybe… they found you cute or maybe you slept with someone and they told one of our superiors that you’re a good fuck. Anyway… They’re always looking for new twinks so they can replace the boys who are aging out of that title,” Niall chuckles sadly, staring at the floor. Harry feels his stomach drop. 

“Have I been forced into prostitution?” Harry asks, eyes wide. Niall just looks at him with his vibrant blue eyes, hesitating to answer. 

“Sort of,” Niall replies. And that isn’t reassuring at all. 

“Then what _exactly_ is it?” Harry adds, starting to feel panic and exasperation bubbling inside him. 

Niall’s answer is cut off by a knock at the door. The door opens and a beautiful male wearing nearly the exact thing Niall is donning, except his robe is red, comes in with a plastic bag in his hand. He smiles at Niall before glancing at Harry. He has eyes like Niall but his are paler. He’s lightly toned, his chestnut-colored hair is messy like he had woken up only a few minutes before, and he has prominent cheek bones that are also very soft. Harry wonders why someone would want to put a person as beautiful as that in this… whatever this place is. “Did you fill our newbie in?” He asks Niall. 

“Not a lot since you just walked in,” Niall replies with a smile, a genuine one. The stranger giggles before bringing his attention back to Harry and walking over to his bed.

“Oh, you hurt yourself on the way in, love?” He asks as he sets the bag down by Harry’s feet. “Yeah, we don’t exactly come with fragile stamps. I had a few broken fingers when I was first brought in. Anyway, your stuff is in this bag, Harry.” 

He shoots Harry another smile and gives Niall a little wave before exiting the room. He knew Harry’s name. “Who’s he?” He asks 4 seconds after the door closes. 

“That’s Louis,” Niall responds. “He’s the oldest on this floor so he likes to take care of us, whether it’s to nurse us through a cold or just make us laugh. He’s cool like that.” 

“How old is he?” 

“He’s 18. His birthday is coming up though.” _That must be horrible, Harry thinks, to spend your birthday here_. He then begins to worry about the possibility of him spending his own birthday here. It’ll be the first one without his family. Oh god, Harry’s family. Harry’s friends. Harry’s cat. He breaks down crying and Niall hurries over. He’s wary of Harry’s wrist as he climbs into bed next to him and holds him. Under another circumstance, Harry would find this embrace strange. But he’s glad he didn’t have to ask for comfort. “It’s alright, buddy. It’s alright.”

Through his hiccuping, he asks, “Does anyone ever leave?” Niall meagerly smiles at him with a somberness in his eyes. That’s all Harry needs to choke up even more. He’s trapped here. 

“I thought that morphine was supposed to make you feel good,” Niall mumbles into Harry’s hair. When Harry’s tears finally stop, Niall strokes his hair and sighs. “I think Louis’s coming back soon to give you a tour of the place. You should… get dressed. You don’t want to be caught in your regular clothes by Marco.” 

“Who’s Marco?” Harry asks. He’s getting annoyed by himself and how many questions he’s asking about people. 

“He’s… he’s the boss. He started all of this,” Niall answers in a whisper like he’s talking about a ghost that would come to haunt him if it heard. Harry decides he hates Marco.

He sits up and scoots to the edge of the bed so his needle doesn’t pull out. “How do I get dressed with this in my arm?” Harry asks. 

“I can take it out for you,” Niall suggests. “It shouldn’t wear off for another 30 minutes… Or you could put it back in after getting dressed and drag it around with you.” 

Harry lets Niall take out the needle with a swift movement that feels like a pinch. He stands up and grabs the bag that Louis brought. It’s the same thing Louis and Niall are wearing, a pair of black boxers and a silk robe with a gold trim. His is baby blue. He pulls it on carefully and pinches the fabric between his fingers, feeling it. Niall is about to offer the needle, but Harry declines. He doesn’t want anymore drugs. 

He sits back down and reassess his life. His descent into a panic attack is interrupted by a knock at the door. Louis pops in. “Oh, you’re dressed. Great,” he says happily. Harry can’t grasp how he can be so happy. “I’m giving you the tour. Niall, you’re welcomed to join us.” 

“I need to shower, mate. Sorry,” Niall declines. 

“Your loss,” he replies. “You ready to go, Harry?” 

Harry gets to his feet, nodding, before following Louis out the door and into the off-white hallway. Walking is almost foreign to him right now since he slept for hours after being dragged out of a car that he was unconscious in. He didn’t do much walking within the last 12 hours. “How did you know my name?” is the first thing Harry asks since all his other questions seem to tread on risky. 

“Whenever we get someone new, I am notified. I was chosen to be the one who tries to settle in the newbies and be their friends until they can handle being here without much assistance,” Louis answers. “I’m sure there are a lot of questions you have, and I’m sure a lot of them I can’t answer without getting in trouble.” 

“Well… I wouldn’t tell anyone.” 

“Tell someone or not, they’ll find out,” he says with a smile that makes Harry feel uneasy. Maybe Louis’s been brainwashed to believe that this way of living is okay. Maybe he doesn’t care. “This hallway we’re going down is called the Champagne Hall because of it’s color. It has 30 rooms, 15 on each side. Most rooms hold 2 boys and you’ll hopefully meet all of them during breakfast.” They continue onward until they come to 2 hollow metal doors. Louis smiles encouragingly at Harry before pushing on the bar and opening one of the doors. Harry hears the wooden floor creak underneath him as he steps into the dining room. It’s a beautiful room with it’s cherry hardwood, clean white lunch tables that are lined up perfectly, and a large chandelier hanging in the center of the room. Harry won’t change his view on this place as a prison. It’s just an incredibly luxurious prison. Louis smirks because he can sense the war in Harry’s mind about how he feels. “Follow me,” Louis whispers with the smug expression still on his face. 

They walk to the back of the room where there are two more doors that await them. Louis opens the one on the back wall and gives Harry a short glance at the stair case that goes up and down. “Why a staircase?” Harry asks. “Why can’t you use the elevator?” 

Harry catches Louis face becoming pained for a split second before he fights the expression and puts on one of his smiles. _He’s good at smiling_ , Harry thinks. “The elevator is for guests and Marco and his crew, not us,” Louis explains. “We use the staircase when we are needed on stage, on the guest floor, or on Marco’s floor.”

So the elevator isn’t just floor transportation. It’s the only way in and _out_. 

“And… and what do we do on those floors?” Harry asks, feeling panic rise in his throat. He has a clue, but he doesn’t want it to be correct.

“Marco asked me to tell you when your wrist heals,” Louis replies. He opens the door on the right wall and shows Harry the ,”gym… and game room.” He points across the room to another set of doors and informs him that’s the kitchen and they’re only allowed in there during eating hours. 

When the clock on the back wall reads 9:00, boys begin piling into the room, filling the room with the tinny sound of the doors opening and shutting and their voices and peals of laughter. Louis lets Harry sit at his table and leaves to get him a plate of food. The atmosphere is so strangely like school, Harry wonders if these boys even realize where they are. 

Someone sits down across from Harry and raises an eyebrow at him. Harry is floored by this boy’s godlike features. His dark hair is perfectly tousled on his head, showing off to everyone that he is gorgeous even after just waking up, and his brown eyes are endlessly deep and lovely even if there are a few dark circles underneath them. He looks over his skin until it’s cut off by the dark red silk. Harry has to stop staring. “Where’s Louis?” The stranger, or God, asks. 

“He went to get me breakfast. I’m new here,” Harry answers nervously. 

“Shit, sorry for you, mate,” He mumbles apologetically as he picks at his plate of eggs, turkey bacon, mash potatoes, and a muffin. He might be the first person Harry understands. Harry finds Louis in the crowd as he walks back with two plates in his hands. When he reaches the table, he nearly throws the plates down as he slaps the stranger’s back. 

“Zayn! I see you met our newbie, Harry,” he says as he takes his seat and begins cutting at his thick slice of ham. He looks at Harry and his overwhelmed plate. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted. So I… got you everything.” Harry stares at his food, not wanting to surrender to what this debauched jail has to offer. He doesn’t want to be here. He slides his plate away. Louis’s eyes widen with amusement as he alternates between looking at Zayn and Harry. “What? Is our little newbie going on a hunger strike?” He laughs spitefully. “Sorry, Ghandi, but becoming more of a stick than you already are won’t get you out of here. Just deal with it.” 

He stands up and walks away with a roll of his eyes. Zayn sighs at the boy in front of him just staring at the table, embarrassed and hurt. “Louis’s not usually a dick like that,” Zayn whispers. “He’s just _sensitive_ about certain things.”

Harry doesn’t respond to that. “I need morphine,” he mutters as he swings both of his legs over the bench and makes his way back to the Champagne Hall. He reads every brass number until he sees the the _17_ that indicates he’s found his room. He steps in and finds silence. Without Niall around, he has to put the needle back in himself. He lays down, hearing the springs compress under his back. The morphine and steady sounds of his breathing bring him a temporary solace. He shuts his eyes and thinks back to the previous day, trying to revive his memory and remember what had happened that brought him here. When he can’t recall anything, frustrated tears break out from his eyelids and run down his cheeks. 

Harry pulls the needle back out and wipes his tears as he sits up on his bed. He gets onto his feet and steps out into the hall, looking both ways. He walks the opposite direction from the dining room. He carefully pads down the hall towards the elevator. He glances over his shoulder several times until he’s a foot away. Harry’s goals are immediately crushed when he notices the keypad that requires a 4-digit code. His eyes don’t have time to well up with tears because there’s a hand gripping his shoulder and forcing him to turn around. “What the fuck are you doing?” Louis hisses, checking the tiny screen to make sure Harry hasn’t tried typing anything in. He’s filled with relief, but he’s still going to scold Harry. He wraps a hand around the boy’s bicep and leads him back to his room. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry pleads as Louis turns the doorknob. Louis pushes him inside and shuts the behind them. The older boy sits him down on his bed. “I’m sorry, Louis.” 

“The faster you accept that you’re staying here, the better off you’ll be,” Louis says sternly with a scowl. “They’re not going to let you leave, Harry. You can starve yourself, you can start your own riot, you could— light yourself on _fire_ , and you won’t achieve anything but hurting yourself.” 

Harry nods with his tear-shiny eyes and stares at the floor. Very softly, he apologizes again. Louis’s expression falters and he sighs. The older boy places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes him comfortingly. “I think you need a bath. They help me when I’m not feeling up to par,” Louis coos. He pulls Harry onto his feet and walks him to the en suite. Louis starts running the bath as Harry stands in the corner farthest away from him. He drags the back of his hand over his cheeks and watches Louis pour a clear purple liquid into the water from a little bottle he found under the sink. Louis puts the bottle back and walks over to Harry, who looks like a cornered animal. He shuts the door and pulls him closer by his right hand. Harry is pleasantly surprised when he’s pulled into a hug. “The first few days are tough, I know. But I’m just looking out for you,” He whispers into Harry’s shoulder.

Harry feels his skin turn hot when Louis slides his robe down his arms. “Don’t be nervous or anything like that. All the boys, we’ve— We’ve seen each other,” Louis assures him. “Seeing each other naked is nothing special anymore.” Harry takes in a large breath of air before pinching the band of his boxers and pulling them down until they fall to his feet. Harry sinks into the silky, jasmine-scented water and sighs as his tense muscles relax. Beside him, Louis shuts the toilet seat and sits down on the lid. 

“I wonder if my mum is freaking out,” Harry mumbles as he swishes his toes in the water.

“She is,” Louis replies. Harry snaps his head around to stare at him, speculating how he knows. “I-I didn’t contact her or anything, I just… guess you must’ve been close, the two of you. You seem like a mother’s boy and I’m sure she is worried.” 

Harry wishes he could just call her, it’d give her some peace of mind to know he’s alive. But he wouldn’t want to keep her waiting for him to reappear. “How long have you been here?” Harry asks. Louis’s soft smile turns into a frown. He stares at the floor, trying to anchor himself on something. 

“I’ve been here for… about… 3 years now,” Louis answers shakily. 

“H-how can you handle being here that long?” 

“You say that like I have a choice. This— This is my life now,” Louis says, but Harry hears only lies. “I have come a long way to accept that. I was like you once, trying to find ways out and stuff.”

“What made you change?” 

The pained expression makes another appearance, but it stays longer than its first show. Louis puts a hand over his mouth as he sighs and stands up. “I’ll see you at dinner,” he dismisses Harry’s question entirely and walks out of the restroom. Harry is left in the tub, confused and curious. He wants to know what it is that makes Louis tick. He wants to know Louis. Louis might not join him, but he could be Harry’s way out. 

Harry carefully wraps a towel around his waist as he steps out of the tub. He exits the en suite and finds Niall sitting on his bed. “Oi, Harry! The boys went out and brought us back some new releases,” Niall says as he shows off some of the DVD cases that are still wrapped in clear film. 

“Do we even have televisions to watch those on?” Harry asks as he crosses the room to his bed. Niall nods. 

“Ours is in the closet. You want to watch one right now?” Niall adds. Harry shrugs. He really doesn’t have anything better to do. Niall smiles before shooting off his bed and to the closet. As he’s setting up the television on the little lamp table in front of their beds, he says, “You’ve handled your first day really well. My first day… I was crying all day. They had to inject me with something to calm me down. My first day was shit.”

Harry doesn’t reply. He’s really not doing that well internally. He would probably be dehydrating himself from how much he would be crying had it not been for Niall, Louis, and even Zayn. He sighs and lies down in his bed before putting his morphine needle back inside his arm. Sometime during the movie, he drifts off to sleep.

He awakes to a knock at the door and finds that Niall is watching another movie. Louis walks in with something in the hand behind his back. “Ay, what’s up, Lou?” Niall calls out as he sits up on his bed and pauses the movie. 

“Nothing, I just brought something for Harry,” Louis answers as he reveals the black splint he’s holding. He walks over to Harry’s bed and kneels. “Something proper for the sprain, love…” 

Harry watches as Louis carefully unwraps his bandage. He gets the splint around Harry’s wrist and begins to strap it closed. It’s so maternal, really, Harry could start crying. They sit in a silence and just get lost in each other for a moment. Harry looks for answers, Louis wonders why he’s looking. Louis gets to his feet and leaves the room. 

“The fuck was that?” Niall asks. Harry didn’t realize how conspicuous their little staring contest was until now. 

“I don’t know,” Harry replies as he pulls his IV out and goes to the closet, finding that they’ve stocked it with more robes and boxers identical to the ones he’s wearing. He pays no mind to Niall as he drops his towel and gets into a fresh kit. Harry adjusts the way his robe settles on his shoulders as he asks, “When is dinner?” 

Niall looks at their clock and answers, “An hour and a half. But if you’re hungry, we can still go to the cafeteria and grab a snack.”

Harry shakes his head. “Not hungry. Just wondering is all,” he sighs as he begins to contemplate what to do for the next hour and a half. “How long have you been here, Niall?” 

“A year and 4 months,” Niall answers. “Why?” 

Harry shakes his head as he ties his robe closed. “Do you know how long… this entire ‘organization’ has been going on?” Harry continues. 

“I don’t know for sure. I think it’s been 3 years,” Niall says. Harry’s thoughts screech to a halt as he begins to think and only think about Louis being one of the first boys here. Maybe the only boy. So he spends the next hour and a half lying in bed, thinking about Louis and why he is the way he is. It seems like minutes before Niall taps his shoulder and tells him it’s time for dinner. 

A river of boys bottleneck through the steel doors before dispersing throughout the dining room. Harry ditches Niall to return to the table he sat at for breakfast. He awkwardly plays with his hands as he waits for someone to sit down with him. He looks up to the blue-eyed boy when he sets down two plates of food. “You better eat this time,” Louis says with a seriousness that disappears when he smiles. He hands Harry a set of utensils wrapped in a napkin. Harry takes out a fork and rolls his green beans around the steak on his plate. Louis watches him with an unappeased expression. He finishes swallowing his mouthful of food and puts down his fork. Harry hesitantly looks up to meet his eyes like a child, who realizes he’s been caught. “Harry, please eat.”

Harry really doesn’t like the way Louis looks at him, it reminds him too much of his mother. The need to be home is finally really starting to settle in his bones. He stabs at the steamed greens on his plate and brings them to his mouth, chewing then swallowing. Louis hums, delighted. Harry decides he prefers that look much better so he continues piling food into his mouth, finally satisfying the emptiness in his stomach. “How do you guys get these incredible lunches?” Harry asks. 

“We, um, we make a lot of money so we have really good chefs here,” Louis answers just as Zayn sits down. “They send out Marco’s team to get stuff to cook everyday. They like to keep us healthy. We work better.” 

Harry still doesn’t know to what extent ‘work’ means here. Everyday he feels more dread accumulating in his mind as he waits to find out. Harry thinks that maybe he’ll be able to stomach being an escort. He looks at Louis and Zayn and feels his blood run cold at the realization that they’re bodies are being sold for money. Money that pays for the expensive silk robes they wear and the delicious food they eat. Harry has to stop his food from coming back up. He tightens his grip around his fork as he keeps the bile down. 

“You okay?” Zayn asks, politely covering his mouth with a hand to block out any sight of the chewed-up food. Harry flashes his eyes at him and nods stiffly. 

“You’ve gone white, mate,” Louis adds. “Like… more white. Whiter.” 

The more they talk, the sicker Harry feels. Louis and Zayn become deeply concerned. Zayn shoots Louis a glance. The blue-eyed boy stands up and shakes his head. “C’mon, Harry. I don’t think you’re well,” Louis sighs as he walks over. Harry follows him out of the dining room and down the Champagne Hall. But they don’t go to Harry’s room, they go to Louis’s. 

It’s the same size as the room that Harry shares with Niall, but the big difference is that there is nicer things in it and only one bed. When Louis tells him to lay down, Harry asks him about the single bed. Louis answers, “I’ve been here a while. Not implying that there is like— a pyramid going on amongst the boys, but I do have more power than people who have been here less time than me self. I just asked to have my own room. How are you feeling?”

Harry takes a deep breath before squeaking out, “Panicked.” 

Louis cards his fingers through the boy’s curly hair and asks, “What’s making you feel like that?”

Harry has to refrain from gawking at him. Is the answer not completely obvious? “This entire situation. I-I just really don’t know what I’ve been forced into and I’d kind of appreciate some actual information,” Harry stresses, voice cracking lightly. 

Louis sighs and nods. “Taking in your current state, I don’t know if I want to tell you. I’d really hate for you to chunder on my carpet,” he says, attempting to lighten the mood. But it doesn’t work. “Let’s talk in the toilet.” 

Louis walks Harry to the en suite and sits the both of them down by the toilet, just incase Harry does get sick. Louis clears his throat as he begins. “We do a lot of things here, it just depends what’s in demand and stuff. The reason we’re so rich is because the men that visit are ridiculously wealthy so they spend ridiculous amounts of money to get what they want out of us and our bodies. I’m sure you’ve guessed that we’re prostitutes and escorts and stuff like that, and you’re right. I’ll give you a moment to feel sick,” Louis says. “We’re paid by the hour and if the acts that are wanted from us are a bit on the extreme side, we get paid even more. That’s why we have a guest floor. Our guests use the rooms on that floor and sometimes stay the night if they pay for it. Some men even stay for weeks because they think they’re in love with one of our boys… The reason we have a stage is… W-we also perform in a way. I don’t know how people get off on this, but they get two or more boys to have sex on stage while many men watch. Usually kinky sex like bondage and sadism, masochism. And like strippers, we have money thrown at us to encourage us to use more… fervor. Our audience likes loud, almost crying bottoms. And they can tell when a boy is faking it. It usually doesn’t end too well for the bottom after the show.”

Harry places his hands on his stomach that’s starting to feel the way it did on his way into this mess. He removes one hand and brings it to his wet eyes. Imagining himself doing something so intimate with a man he didn’t know or in front of strangers made his skin crawl. He doesn’t want his first time to be a show. He would think about what his first time would be like and he saw the most cliché images such as rose petals leading to a bed surrounded by white candles. Not men watching and coming over it. It’s a gross picture that has Harry hovering over the toilet bowl, gagging. Louis rubs circles into his back. Harry sits back down on his legs and stares at Louis. “You’ve been doing _that_ for three years?” Harry asks, still completely shocked. Louis looks down at the white tile underneath them before looking back up and nodding bashfully. Harry bursts out crying and crawls over to him, burying his face in Louis’s chest. Louis wraps his arms around the weeping boy. 

“It’s not too bad. I’ve gotten used to it,” Louis says, trying to comfort him but it does the opposite. Harry thinks that’s an even more perverted thought. He can’t see himself ever adjusting to this lifestyle. He wants to live how he was just a day before. He wants all the boys here to live how they should’ve. He wants Louis to escape with him and take a fresh breath of air and feel his mum’s hug again. Harry decides he’s going to do it or die trying. 

Harry brings his eyes to meet Louis’s clear pale-blue ones and sniffles. “I’m not staying here, Louis. I’m going to get out and… I want you to come with me,” he whispers. Louis caresses his face, gently thumbing at his skin, as he shakes his head with a pout on his lips. 

“You’ll fail. I wouldn’t go with you anyway, this is my life now,” he replies softly. “I can’t change it.”

Harry can’t choose between screaming at him or crying until his body shrivels up. He settles on letting out a broken sob and letting his face fall back into Louis’s chest. Harry knows that Louis’s stubborn beliefs are sick and he just really wants to help him, save him even. But he doesn’t know how to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. 

He cries until he tires himself out and Louis carries him to his bed. He sets him down gently and throws a blanket over him. He watches Harry until his eyes fully close and he looks asleep. Harry swears he hears him say, “I can’t make that mistake again,” before his thoughts shut off and he’s stuck in comfortable, dark haze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah. Rereading, I just cringe because it's such a weird idea. Still going to post it thoooo. Thanks for reading! x


	3. Chapter 3

**Day Two**

Harry’s blurry vision focuses on Louis, who is sticking his head out of the door. He watches him call out, his mind still too foggy to process what he’s saying, before stepping back inside and shutting the door. He smiles at the sleepy, but awake, Harry in his bed. “Morning,” he chirps before sitting down on his carpet floor. 

“Wha were ya doin’?” Harry asks groggily as he sits up and rubs his dry eyes. 

“Guards were doing a count. Told them you were in here instead of your proper room,” he answers. Harry takes in all of Louis and thinks he looks tired. He wonders where he slept. “They do that because sometimes guests try to leave in the night with a boy… Breakfast is in a few minutes. Want to go now and get a head start?”

There are so many questions on Harry’s tongue but he can’t ask them. He doesn’t know when the right time will be but he knows that right now isn’t it. So he nods and hops out of bed, following Louis down the Champagne Hall. 

They exit the kitchen just as boys begin to fill the dining room. Harry and Louis take their usual seats. A few minutes pass and Harry realizes that their godlike friend hasn’t arrived at their table. His eyes give his thoughts away and Louis says, “He must be working.” And Harry can’t eat anymore. He wonders when it’ll be Louis’s absence that bothers him. 

A boy who seems to have originally planned to walk passed their table, stops. He sees Harry and studies him before sliding into the bench. “Ay, Louis. Is this the newbie?” He asks in a whisper that Harry can hear very clearly from the other side of the table. “‘Cos like… I heard we got a newbie but I haven’t found him yet.” 

“This is Harry. He is our newbie,” Louis confirms. Harry doesn’t like the title ‘newbie’ at all. “Harry, this is Felix.” 

The boy pushes his strawberry hair from his face as he reaches over the table to shake Harry’s hand firmly. “I hope your first day wasn’t too bad, babe. I’m in 23 if you ever need me,” he says before kissing Harry’s knuckles and then standing up. Harry watches him with a bright smile as he walks away. He doesn’t catch the frown on Louis’s face. 

Louis leans across the table and clears his throat to get Harry’s attention back on him. “What do you want to do later?” he asks. Harry tries to hink of something because having a distraction from his predicament sounds good for him. He knows they have a game room and he hasn’t quite explored it. He suggests this to Louis, who smiles and cocks his head in the general direction of the door. “We can go if you’ve finished eating already.” 

Harry looks down at his hardly dented plate and nods. Louis takes his plate, quickly disposes of them, and walks with Harry to the game room. Harry has a brief moment of panic when he hears moans but sees that it’s only boys getting their morning workout in. He lets out a sigh of relief as Louis leads him away from that area to the more arcade-looking side of the room. Louis takes him to the Pac-Man game first and leans against it with a smirk on his face. “I have the highest score on this game. I worked really hard to get it,” Louis boasts as he hits a button and the game comes to life. “How good are you at Pac-Man?” 

“I’m shit at it,” Harry admits. Louis tries to hide his smile by curling his lips inward as he turns around and starts playing the game. Harry just watches. When Louis gets caught, the scoreboard shows up and the top name says _AIDENNPNM_. He raises an eyebrow and says, “That’s not your name.”

“I know,” Louis replies. The screen blacks out and Harry sees his reflection frowning. Louis doesn’t meet Harry’s eyes as he turns around and excuses himself, leaving the green-eyed boy alone in a room of boys he doesn’t know. Harry thinks they’re all watching him curiously, hungrily. He leaves. 

He walks down the Champagne Hall and tries to fight his want to see Louis. But he can’t. He knocks on the door as he opens it and steps inside. He hears the shower running. He sighs and takes a seat on Louis’s bed and waits. He hears the water stop and listens to Louis’s footsteps. He opens the door and is a little startled to find a boy waiting for him. “What are you doing here?” Louis asks as he fixes the towel around his hips and crosses his arms over his chest. The towel is dangerously low, it makes Harry anxious.   
“I don’t know. I was just wondering how you are. It was a bit strange that… you would leave like that,” Harry says. 

“You’ve only known me for a day, you can’t exactly decide what I do is strange and what is not,” Louis snaps. His eyes meet Harry’s and he can see the tiny blood vessels around his blue irises, so Harry can’t reciprocate any of his anger. He nervously stares at his fingernails as a tense silence surrounds them. 

“Who— Who’s Aiden?” Harry asks. He looks up at Louis and sees he’s taken him by surprise. Louis swallows the lump in his throat and is suddenly very interested by the texture of his carpet. He wiggles his jaw before looking back up with a cold glare. 

“Get out,” Louis spits. Harry opens his mouth, about to speak, but Louis cuts him off by repeating it, “Get out. _Now_.” 

“Bu—”

“You have no right to ask me that, Harry. We’re not best friends that share secrets,” Louis says, voice trembling with anger or sorrow, Harry can’t tell. “And if you respect me as a person, you’ll leave my room and _forget_ about Aiden.” 

Harry obliges. He stands up and trudges towards the door, hearing Louis start choking up behind him. He exits the room and starts for his own. When he turns the knob on his door, he sees Zayn emerging from the two steel doors. He’s still beautiful but you can see the toll taken on him from his work. He’s evidently tired and cranky and possibly in pain. Harry looks away when Zayn spots him. They don’t speak. Harry slides into his room and shuts the door. He doesn’t go to the cafeteria for dinner. He doesn’t speak to Niall when he walks in. 

He lies in bed for the rest of the day and doesn’t talk. He lets the feeling of loneliness seep into his skin and tries to release the poison through his eyes. He doesn’t forget about Aiden. Instead, Aiden permeates his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short. Sorry. x


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was considering just giving up on this story because it just didn't seem to pass the new standards I gave myself to improve as a writer but I'll give it another try since the very few who commented seemed to enjoy this story, and I love every single commenter to death. Thank you.

**Day Three**

Harry dreams of his mother so he wakes with a deep ache in his heart and tears dried on his cheeks. He sits up in bed and looks over at the sleeping blond boy. He throws off his blanket and presses his feet against the carpet. He brushes his teeth as quietly as he can before he makes his way out of the room and stares at his feet and the contrast between them and the wine carpet. He goes to room 10 and slowly opens the door. He turns the dimmer switch to bring some light into the room and finds that it’s empty. There’s no Louis, and Harry’s stomach fills with unease as he ponders what that means. 

He slides into Louis’s bed, bringing the covers just over his freezing legs. His mind wanders to disturbing places, imaging what Louis could possibly doing. Or what is possibly being done to him. He pulls the sheets over his head, trying to hide from his thoughts. His neck starts to hurt after several minutes in that position. He lets out a groan as he tugs the blanket off his head, ruffling up his curly hair. Harry doesn’t think he’ll ever have one second of peace as long as Louis is still upset with him and as long as he is gone. 

9:00 comes around and Harry can hear the sound of boys greeting each other and walking down the hall. He doesn’t join them. He stays under the bedcovers and continues to wait for the blue-eyed boy to turn up. And for a second, Harry thinks he does. But he is slightly disappointed to find Zayn stepping in the room. He finds Zayn attractive and interesting with his constant blasé expression, but he just wasn’t the boy he was hoping for. 

“You alright?” Zayn asks as he places a plate of breakfast food on the tiny dresser next to Harry before sitting down at the foot of the bed. “You missed dinner yesterday and now breakfast. Did something happen between you and Louis?” 

Harry is about to ask how he figured out that this involves Louis, but he realizes it doesn’t take a genius to solve that and Zayn beats him to it. “You’re in his room and he was acting a little moody yesterday when you ditched dinner,” he explains. “I knew it had something to do with you.” 

“Where is he?” Harry asks, glancing around the room like he’d find Louis this time if he looked again. 

“Working,” Zayn sighs as he pats Harry’s leg and crawls further into the bed, slotting himself in between Harry and the wall. He wraps an around around Harry, and this keeps him from being sick all over Louis’s bedsheets. “He might not be back for another day or two.” 

Harry inhales deeply, trying to calm the maelstrom starting to form in his stomach. “Will he be okay? Will he get water, food, and stuff like that?” he inquiries, worried about Louis being deprived of everything but sex. 

Zayn smiles with adoration at the concerned boy. “Yeah, he’ll be fine. They bring whatever he needs directly to his room,” He coos softly into Harry’s hair. “The man he’s with, George, he makes sure Louis is in a good condition. Otherwise, he wants nothing to do with him. So yeah, he’s kind of a dick.”

Harry immediately hates George. He dislikes how gross it makes him feel to think about someone so repulsive like that doing things to someone like Louis. Harry finds the older boy charming, emotional, and radiant and his skin doesn’t deserved to be burned by the fingers of someone who doesn’t care for him in any other way besides physically. He lets out a shaky breath of frustration. 

Zayn grazes Harry’s bare stomach with his fingers before sitting up and wordlessly removing himself from the bed. He stares at Harry for a moment before sighing. “It’s probably no use telling you to stop worrying about him, eh?” Harry shakes his head. “Thought so. Just take care of yourself while you do it. Eat. Drink… Sleep.” Harry nods and is stunned momentarily after Zayn leans in to kiss his forehead. But it’s an endearing gesture that leaves Harry blushing and squirming minutes after he leaves. He’s brought back to his current dilemma after the bubbling inside him diminishes. Everything in his head is dark again. 

He tries to eat the food Zayn brought him, but he can barely bring himself to pick at it. The time for dinner appears on the clock but Harry still has no appetite. He doubts he’ll be able to eat until he knows that Louis is okay. He pulls the bedsheets up to his chin and lets whatever little warmth he has in his body grow, enveloping him in a comfortable temperature. So comfortable, he slips into unconsciousness. 

Harry’s eyes snap open at the sound of the door clicking shut. Louis has his back pressed against the door and his face in his hands. It’s a devastating image that has Harry feeling crushed as he thinks about how common this occurrence is for Louis and how many times he goes through it alone. He brings the sheets down to his chest and sits up. Louis notices the movement in the corner of his eyes and looks up, confusion evident even with the tears in his eyes. Harry gets nervous for a moment as a silence settles in the room. Louis breaks it. “What are you doing here?” He asks. It sounds like he’s pissed. 

“I-I was waiting for you,” Harry stammers. Louis just peers at him, and Harry can’t tell if he’s glaring or not. The blue-eyed boy takes a deep breath, but his hand shoots up to his cheek as he begins to burst out in tears again. He hurries across the room to Harry and slides into the tiny bed. He throws an arm around Harry’s waist as he soaks the sheet that covers the younger boy’s chest with his tears. _This isn’t a proper way of living,_ Harry thinks again and again and again. 

When Louis stops wailing and is getting through hiccuping, he says, “H-He wouldn’t st-stay for his usual amount of d-days because I couldn’t stop crying.”

Harry frowns as he strokes his reddened, tear-stained cheek. “Why were you crying?” Harry dares to ask. Louis tries to soothe his breathing just to answer this one question. 

“H-have you ever been in love, Harry?” He asks. “I w— I was. I might still be, I just hate admitting that to myself. I was in love with a boy… and— and it just didn’t end right. He was all I had and then— and then, I had nothing.”

“Aiden,” Harry whispers. Louis sniffles and nods. 

“Yeah, Aiden,” Louis repeats. Just the way he says his name, Harry can hear just how in love and just how heartbroken he is. He smiles and chuckles sadly. “I thought other people would've cleared the board of his name. He and I were competing, and for the few seconds I wasn’t looking, he typed his name in. I tried to shove him off but he managed to hit enter.” 

Harry beams at the cute memory, wishing that Aiden would come back from wherever he is and make Louis happy again. The smile on Harry disappears when he considers that maybe Aiden is in a place that he can’t return from. So he doesn’t ask for specifics about Aiden anymore. “Are you okay, Lou?” Harry coos. Louis’s lips stretch into a smile but he shakes his head. Harry knows he’s not okay, he’s known ever since he first laid eyes on Louis. When Harry was 9, his parents got divorced. Even when his mother smiled and laughed, Harry noticed she had anguish behind her eyes and her laugh didn’t have its usual bright timbre. He had been watching a movie with her and finally told her about his observations. She was in tears. “How long have you not been okay?” 

“2 years,” Louis breathes out, voice trembling. 

“I’m so sorry,” Harry replies as he brings Louis closer, their chests pressing against each other. He tugs the blanket over Louis’s body so they’re both underneath it and sharing the warmth it has to offer. 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay,” Louis murmurs before falling asleep, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. His head is filled with Louis and what he can do to help him. But Harry’s a romantic who believes that love is a greater power that can never be shut off, no matter how much joy or pain it brings a person. People will always be stuck on their first love, Harry knows this.

The room is filled with their steady breathing and Louis’s growling stomach. Louis’s eyelids flutter open as he groans, annoyed at his sudden hunger. “Jesus Christ,” Louis says as he releases himself from Harry’s arms and sits up. 

“Hungry?” Harry asks. The older boy nods.

“George thinks chocolate-covered strawberries is proper food,” Louis scoffs. “Will you join me to the kitchen?” 

“It’s nighttime, Lou,” Harry points out, but Louis doesn’t falter. “Sure.” 

The two boys get out of bed and open the bedroom door, peering down both directions of the hall. They tiptoe down the corridor and quietly step into the dining room and then the kitchen. Everything is so silent, it puts Harry on edge. But Louis’s voice comforts him through it. “I used do this all the time with Aiden,” Louis says as he grabs a glass bowl and pulls vanilla yoghurt out from the large silver fridge behind him. He begins to put together a large parfait. “I hope you realize that we’re sharing this.” 

Harry smiles, and Louis returns the expression. The older boy then raids the kitchen for toppings. Together they make their vanilla base colorful. “This looks like it might taste like shit,” Harry chuckles as he closes his mouth around a spoon. Louis smiles and waits for his review. “Not terrible. Chocolate was a bad idea though.” 

“Fuck you,” Louis says around a giggle. They finish up their yoghurt before Louis tosses the bowl in the sink and they slip out of the kitchen. 

Harry rinses his mouth and gets into Louis’s bed while he brushes his teeth. Louis dries his mouth with his robe before sliding it off and getting under the covers beside Harry. He instinctively wraps his arms around the younger boy, pressing his cheek against his pale chest. Harry doesn’t know if Louis is doing this because he genuinely likes being around him or if it just brings him comfort. Maybe this is something he and Aiden would do. If it makes him feel better, Harry is willing to do it. 

It’s quiet again, and Harry’s mind comes back to his fear about being bought for pleasure. So into his reticence, he whispers, “I’m scared.” 

Louis hums before looking up at him with concern. “Are you feeling panicked again?” he asks. 

“Kind of,” the younger boy answers. “I-I’ve never had sex before. And it’s not that I’m like… terrified of having something inside me. I just don’t want to have sex with a stranger. Or in front of strangers. Thinking about having sex with someone I don’t care about and who doesn’t care about me makes me feel gross. And when I get out of here, I don’t want to be with someone and thinking about how my first time was in this place.” 

Louis doesn’t remind him that there is such a minuscule possibility that he’ll ever escape. Instead he tries to effectively comfort him. “You’re going to meet someone who makes you forget about this,” Louis murmurs. “And if you’re going to have sex with them, you’re going to be in that moment and thinking of nothing else but them.” 

“How do you know?” 

“It’s how I felt with Aiden.” 

“Wh-what happened to him?” Harry asks, fearing for a second that Louis is going to kick him out again. But Louis’s already so far into his sadness and drunk off of it that he’s going to answer this question. He doesn’t care about any possible consequence. He’s held this truth inside him for too long because he’s been so afraid since then. But Harry, Harry is different and makes him feel like his valor is slowly being revived. He wants to be brave again. He’s just not entirely ready yet. Harry also makes him feel less lonely. Louis loves every single boy in this underground prison but Harry isn’t a copy like the most of them. He resists and resists and resists. He has a fire that hasn’t burned out in the first few days like it usually does for most of the boys who end up here. 

“I already told you he was like you, right?” Louis asks. Harry nods. “Yeah, he was like you. Not always. We fell in love about a 3 months of being here with only a few other boys. And eventually, it grew to where he didn’t like either of us having sex with anyone besides each other. So he wanted to get both of us out. Marco noticed that he was starting to rebel and tried to stop it. He’d separate us by keeping us busy with work. But Aiden was determined to do this one thing. When we were almost successful, they finally put an end to it. And they… They brought us to Marco’s floor. And— and they basically tortured us.” 

“Oh my god,” Harry gasps quietly. 

“They kept us in two different air-conditioned rooms, and we were tied to chairs and they’d drop buckets of ice water on us. We weren't fed or anything. I’d given up soon enough but Aiden hadn’t. He still kept talking back and refusing to break. It was so stupid,” Louis voice cracks. “And I could hear all of it. Everything. He was screaming as they did things to him. When he begged them to stop, they wouldn’t. I woke up one day and it was silent. Marco got me out of my chair and walked me to the door. I got out of his arms to try and see Aiden. I was too weak so I fell and crawled to the room he was kept in. But he wasn't there. He wasn't fucking there. Everything in my body told me that he was dead. My boy was dead and I.. I felt like I died too. I-I was isolated for a few more days before Marco let me go and immediately had me start working again. Marco told me that if I continued Aiden’s work that he’d kill more boys and actually show me their bodies. I’ve never had time to heal from that so I know it’ll always stick with me forever.”

Harry looks down at the older boy, biting his lips red, trembling violently, and tears beginning to slip out of his eyes. The raindrops coming from his eyes puddle over Harry’s heart that feels like it’s punched. He can’t imagine anything close to the pain Louis felt and still currently feels. He wishes he could take that hurt away from Louis and give it to Marco. He still hasn’t met him or even faced him, but he loathes him. He wants to inflict so much pain on this one person, it makes him worry that he’s losing his humanity. But he decides Marco is far from human anyway. 

_I’m going to get you out of here,_ Harry thinks, _and you’re going to heal._


	5. Chapter 5

**Day Four**

The two boys are startled awake by the sound of the door being open and shut. Harry is just startled by the unexpectedness, but Louis is startled for entirely different reasons since he just spilled everything he kept bottled in last night. It’s just Zayn though. “You two made up then?” He asks with a smile. “Good.”

“Is it time for breakfast?” Louis asks. It’s too dark in the room to see and his eyes aren’t able to open more a centimeter, so he can’t read the clock above his door. 

“Not yet,” Zayn replies. “I was coming to check on Harry.”

“How’d you know he was in here?” Louis adds. The younger boy hides under the bedsheets to conceal his embarrassment. 

“He was here all day yesterday,” Zayn says. “Anyway, I’ll leave you two now.”

He shoots Louis and the covered boy a smile before exiting the room. Louis shifts his weight onto one of his sides before slowly pulling the blankets off of Harry’s face and smiling at him. “You were here all day?” Louis asks. Harry flushes before nodding. The older boy giggles before falling back onto the bed and cuddling Harry again. “Go to sleep. There are still a few more hours until breakfast.”

Harry softens from his touch and shuts his eyes. Sleep never comes back, but Harry is so calmed while hearing and feeling Louis all around him, he feels like he’s floating. He wishes he and Louis could’ve met like normal friends do. Harry believes in fate between lovers and friends so he thinks it might’ve went like this: he’d be invited to a party by some girl he’s never spoken to. He’d go to that party and find Louis there with one of Aiden’s arms around his waist as they both drink alcohol from their red cups. Harry would be pouring himself a drink right next to the lovebirds and start up a chat. And a few years would pass before Harry attended Louis and Aiden’s wedding. He’d probably get married himself around the same time Louis and Aiden decide to adopt children. 

Harry stops his imagination because it’s actually painful that they didn’t get that chance. 

Louis taps his shoulder. “Did you sleep?” He asks. Harry shakes his head. “Oh. Are you feeling well enough to eat breakfast?” 

Harry’s not sure but he nods his head anyway. Louis pulls on his red silk and gives Harry a smile before taking his hand, hauling him out of the room. The doors clang loudly as they pass through them and get to the kitchen doors. Harry hears the sounds of pans, sizzling food, and low voices of the cooks around the corner as he and Louis go to the buffet tables. Louis hands him a plate as they look over the choices for the morning. Louis gets his usual assortment that includes ham, eggs, and waffles. Harry is in the mood for something sweet so he gets french toast sprinkled with confectioner’s sugar and fruit. He wiggles the banana in his hand as they walk out of the kitchen, making Louis arch an eyebrow and giggle curiously at him. 

Harry’s done with half of one piece of French toast when boys fill the room, right on schedule. Zayn shortly sits down at their table after. “Do you like French toast?” Louis asks, pointing at the younger boy’s plate with his fork. 

“Well, he’s eating it, Lou,” Zayn says with a roll of his eyes as he pokes at his plate. “He must like it a little.” 

“Shut up, Zayn,” Louis hisses, elbowing his shoulder.. “But do you… enjoy it even when it’s not breakfast?” 

Harry nods, wondering why Louis would care. But he doesn’t question it. He continues eating. 

**Day Eight**

Harry laughs when he’s woken up. He squirms and tries to smack away the hands that are tickling his stomach. “Louis! Stop!” Harry squeals, voice getting even higher with every shout. “Stop!” 

But Louis doesn’t relent. He continues with the most devilish smile on his lips, barking out laughter almost as much as the boy underneath him. Once he decides Harry has had enough and he’s tired, he sighs happily and falls back beside him. That’s when the lump in the bed on the opposite side of the room moves and groans loudly, “Jesus, can’t you two fucking shitheads wait until the hours where I don’t feel like an asscrack? Jesus fecking Christ.” 

Louis covers his mouth with Harry’s shoulder as he giggles. Harry curls into his touch. “Want to go get breakfast now?” Louis whispers. Harry brushes his teeth before joining Louis back at the door. They both walk down the hall. 

When they enter the kitchen, there’s someone there. Not one of the boys, too old to be one of them. Not one of the guards, going by their clothing. “H-Hi, Marco,” Louis stammers nervously as he stops himself from nearing the buffet table. 

“Hello, Louis,” he says, flashing a white grin that creates crinkles around his black eyes. But they’re not beautiful crinkles like Louis’s that make Harry feel warm. They make Harry feel squeamish. “This is Harry, right?” 

Louis looks at Harry, and Harry almost forgets that he’s supposed to nod, too entranced in his fear and disgust for this person standing before them. “Yeah, I’m Harry,” Harry affirms, using his hand that’s in the splint to push his fringe out of his face. 

“How’s your wrist? Is it better?” Marco asks. 

“I-I don’t know,” Harry admits, staring at the black splint. 

“That’s okay. When it’s better, tell Louis,” He adds, giving the blue-eyed boy a look that Harry can’t interpret, before grabbing an apple from the buffet table and walking around the two boys to exit the room. Harry steps closer to Louis as he does. 

“Why does he want me to tell you?” Harry asks. Louis is staring at the floor with wide eyes, not facing Harry as he answers. 

“When the splint comes off, he’s going to put you to work,” Louis tells him. It takes so much self-control to keep Harry from slamming the nearest door on his healing wrist. He’d prefer having a sprained or broken bone more than getting used for older men’s pleasures. He’s sure that Louis hasn’t completely sided with him on his plan to escape, so he doubts he’ll be able to leave before then. He’s going to spend the next few days getting ready for the trauma he knows he’s going to receive. He loses any hunger he had. And Louis does too. 

They push against the current of boys as they make their way to Louis’s room. When they finally get inside the room, they decide to check out Harry’s wrist. Louis sits him down on the bed before gently separating the straps and pulling it off. His skin is still tinted violet but he feels fine, which makes him feel nervous. He doesn’t want to work. Louis seems to have these same feelings also because he can’t look Harry in the eye. He simply mumbles, “I’m sorry.” 

The older boy stands up to hug Harry. “Wh-what is he going to put me up to first?” Harry asks in a frightened whisper. 

“I don’t know. If they figure out you’re a virgin, they’ll sell you to a man for a one-on-one,” Louis answers softly, not wanting to scare him. But it doesn’t really work. “The sick bastards spend ridiculous amounts of money on virgins, inflates their egos.” 

“So are they going to put me on stage?” 

“I don’t know, babe,” Louis repeats. The green-eyed boy whimpers into his chest. “I won’t tell Marco your wrist is better. But we can only keep that lie going for so long… until he brings in one of the doctors to look at it.” 

Eventually, Harry ends up with his face in Louis’s chest, trying to release all his panic through his tears. “Th-this is really stupid,” Harry starts, trying to speak around his small gasps. “But would you be my first?” 

Louis looks down at him sadly as he shakes his head. “Sorry, I promised that I wouldn’t have sex with another boy else unless it was for work,” Louis replies. “I can’t do that to Aiden.” 

Harry sniffles and nods understandingly. He tries to compose himself but it’s useless, he can’t stop the horror from thriving inside him. His mind becomes polluted with images and thoughts of what these men will do to him. And like Louis can read him, he cards his fingers through Harry’s thick hair. The younger boy focuses on the soothing feeling of his touch. For a moment, he feels okay. 

Until Louis breaks him out of his bubble by slipping out from under him. “I have to shower. Sorry,” Louis apologizes softly as he carefully crawls over Harry to get off the bed. _He’s going to work_ , Harry thinks sadly. He watches the older boy, who doesn’t bother shutting the door before undressing. Harry almost takes it as an invitation to join him but he doesn’t. Friends don’t do that. But usually friends aren’t both ensnared in an underground facility that forces prostitution. The green-eyed boy whimpers and curls in himself, burying his face into the area Louis was previous laying in. His scent still lingers, bringing Harry comfort. But Harry wants his warm skin under his fingertips.

Louis steps out a few minutes later with dewy skin and a towel low on his hips. He goes around the room, assembling a fresh kit, as he air dries. Harry watches him with a fond fascination through his drooping eyelids. He loves this older boy along with the ugly that he hides under his smiles and laughs. He wants Louis to be better. 

Harry’s once tired eyes pop open when Louis undoes his towel and lets it puddle around his feet. He tries to play down his surprise. The only other boy he’s seen naked so far is Niall, but he was given a warning that time. He tries not to look directly at Louis’s soft cock, but he finds himself glancing. He’s only human. He takes a deep breath and brings his eyes up to Louis’s face. “When are you supposed to go?” Harry croaks out. 

Louis brings his black boxer shorts up his legs, putting away the thing that Harry is trying so hard not to look at. Louis opens a drawer from his dress and pulls out a slip of paper. “12:45,” Louis reads off the paper, sighing as he puts it away. 

“How long will you be gone?” Harry asks, not wanting to sound so clingy. But he is. He really doesn’t know anyone else in this institution more than Louis. He hasn’t really tried to branch out though. He doesn’t really know if he wants to. He’s content with just Louis. 

“It should be just a few hours,” Louis answers as he gets back onto the bed next to Harry. The younger boy shuffles back to the wall to give him more room, wrapping his arms around the older boy’s waist. They lie in silence until Louis softly says, “I feel like everyday… I’m slowly forgetting every single person from my life before this place. I’m sure I’ve forgotten the way all of my little sisters look.”

“That’s why I want to get you out,” Harry mumbles against the soft skin of his shoulder. And that’s all that’s said for the next hour and a half. They both drift off to sleep. 

Louis luckily wakes up 30 minutes before he’s supposed to leave because of a loud laugh in the Champagne Hall. The gently nudges the dozing boy next to him until he signals that he’s awake with a flutter of his eyelids. “I’m leaving now,” Louis whispers quietly. Harry hums in response. The blue-eyed boy slowly peels Harry’s arms off of him and stands from the bed. He watches Harry latch onto the end of the blanket and pull it close. Louis finishes dressing then makes his way to the door, but he hesitates before leaving. “Are you going to be here when I get back?” Louis asks, hand on the doorknob.

The younger boy opens his sleep-filled eyes, displaying his emerald green irises that look more valuable than any gem, before nodding with a tiny smile spread on his lips. Louis walks back over to the bed, quickly kissing Harry’s cheek, before returning to the door. He gives the beaming, sleepy boy another glance before exiting the room. Harry curls a leg around the blanket mound he’s created and sleeps. 

He dreams a dream less than innocent. He feels breath and fingers hot against his skin, touching him in places no one else but he has discovered. All of his senses are stimulated except for his sight; everything is dark. He can barely make out the figure under him, on top of him, all around him. His ruts his hips once, twice and lets out a cry as he comes. His noise echoes in his dream, and he finally sees the figure that has brought him this overwhelming bliss. It’s Louis. 

He shoots awake and sits up, heaving and hair sticking to his forehead. He wiggles his hips to find out if he actually did come in his boxers, and yes, yes, he did. He gets off the bed and stiffly walks over to the en suite, shedding his clothing and splint. He turns the shower handle and waits for the water to warm up before stepping under it. There, he washes away the evidence of his shame for having a wet dream over his friend. 

He hops out of the shower after shutting the water off. He finds no towel but a fluffy bathrobe that he hopes Louis won’t mind him using. He ties the robe and pulls the hood over his wet hair. He sits in Louis’s bed with his back against the wall and continues to wait for him. He grabs a book off his dresser, brings his knees closer to his chest, and begins to read it. 

He finishes two books from Louis’s selection before the older boy returns from work. Harry tears his eyes away from the third book he’s started and looks up at the exhausted boy entering the room. He tries to rid the memory of the dream from his brain but he can’t. Louis shuts the door behind him and slides off his silk robe. “Alright?” Harry asks as he puts down the book. 

“I’m beat… and starving,” Louis sighs as he trudges over to the bed, falling into the empty space next to Harry. His body presses against Harry’s legs, and Harry’s legs feel like they’re burning. 

“Well, it’s almost time for dinner,” Harry reminds him. The older boy, with his eyes shut, lets out a relieved hum. Harry puts the book back onto the dresser and scoots down to level his face with Louis’s. “Hey, pal,” he whispers. 

Louis opens his eyes and chuckles. “Hi,” he replies with a smile. Harry kisses his cheek, but the contact is a bit on the rough side so he stabs Louis’s cheek bone with his nose. 

“Oops, sorry,” Harry says as he rubs the itch of pain out of the tip of his nose. 

“Let’s go get dinner, yeah?” Louis suggests. Harry follows his lead in getting out of bed. “Oh, you should probably get into clothing… unless you want to go out like that.” 

“I definitely don’t,” Harry replies with a chuckle. Louis gives him a smile before bringing out a pair of boxer shorts in his size. The inseam is much smaller than Harry’s used to. They only cover 1/3 of his thighs. As they walk down the hall, Harry remembers something. “When is your birthday?” 

Louis gives him an curious look and smiles before answering with, “The 24th.”

“What day is it today?” Harry asks. 

“It’s the 19th,” Louis replies as he opens the dining room doors and allows Harry to enter first. The younger boy walks backwards to talk to him. 

“Do they let you do anything for your birthday?” Harry adds.

“Eh, sort of. You can choose between a gift from outside or a week off from work,” Louis says. “I usually pick the week off.” 

Harry nods, he’d choose that one too. They step into the kitchen and find one of the cooks placing food down on the buffet table. He gives the two boys a smile as he walks back to the cooking area. Harry grabs a bowl and serves himself some soup while Louis tops his plate with almost everything on the table. Harry’s glad they didn’t have a run-in with Marco this time.

But speak of the devil, and he shall appear. They open the kitchen doors with their shoulders and find Marco strolling through the dining room. Harry nearly drops his bowl. “Hey! You two again,” Marco calls out as he walks over. “You two must be adjoined at the hip. Are you liking it here, Harry?” 

Harry lies and says, “Yes.” 

“Good, good. Your wrist is better!” Marco says excitedly, noticing that he isn’t wearing his splint now. _Shit._ Louis’s eyes widen as he realizes that too. He alternates between looking at Harry’s face and the area that lacks a brace. “That’s great. Anyway, you two enjoy your dinner.” 

With that, he walks away. Louis feels like shattering his plate, but he’s too hungry for that currently. “Let’s eat,” Louis mutters. The two of them take their usual spots and begin to eat. Well, Louis does. Harry just stirs his spoon in the soup, not feeling hungry. “C’mon, Harry. You’ve not eaten all day.” 

“It’s hard sometimes,” Harry replies softly. He’s going to be put to work now. He’s fucked up and lost days. He hears the boy in front of him sigh then feels the tender gesture of a hand being placed on top of his. He looks up and sees Louis staring at him sympathetically. But he snatches his hand away when the doors begin to swing open. Harry thinks that Louis wants to save himself the humiliation of anyone thinking he had feelings for him, but he shakes that thought out of his head. Louis couldn’t feel that way… At least, he hopes. 

Harry’s soup goes cold so he tosses it in the trashcan and places his bowl in one of the dish bins that sit on the trolley by the kitchen doors. He crosses Louis on his way back to the table. Harry then decides to leave to his room. Lonely, he walks down the hall and into his room. He falls, face first, into his bed and sighs. He’s probably slept in Louis’s bed more than his own by now. 

He hears the door open behind him and is surprised when someone rolls into bed beside him. He turns his head and is met with a mouthful of hair. “Jesus, Lou,” Harry says, spitting out his hair. The boy next to him looks up and smiles mischievously. 

“You feeling okay?” Louis asks, smile becoming softer. 

“Yeah… aside from my general anxiety from being here, I’m fine,” Harry answers. “I don’t want to work. Please break my wrist for me.” 

Louis chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he replies. Harry nods and pulls him close to his chest. “Can I sleep in your room tonight?” 

“Are you sure you want us to room with Niall?” Harry asks with a snort. 

“I’ll tell him to sleep in my room when he comes ‘round. I’ve got it covered.” 

Niall does turn up a bit later and complains about the two boys.“You two prats better keep it down with your damn _hehehe_ ’s until breakfast,” Niall groans. 

“Niall, bud, you can sleep in my room tonight,” Louis says, and Niall sighs with relief. “And there are tissues in the en suite if you’re going to have yourself a little wank before bed. Have fun.” The two boys lying down with each other’s arms around themselves watch the blond boy pack a few of his things and head out of the door. 

Harry doesn’t know what possesses him because ever since he was a child, he couldn’t bring himself to move his furniture without the approval of his mum. But here he is with Louis, moving aside the dresser and bringing the two full-sized beds together in the middle of the room. It’s simply assembly but it excites Harry. He hops onto the bed and laughs as he rolls around the now larger expanse of mattress. The older boy bites his lip and watches him fondly. 

They both sleep with their legs tangled together until they bump together and can’t tell which limb belongs to who.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated twice since I feel terrible for neglecting you who actually read this. I'll try to be more consistent with an actual schedule, but I doubt it'll be easy since my feelings over this story aren't consistent. Thanks for reading anyway. x


	6. Chapter 6

**Day Twelve**

The one night Niall was supposed to spend in Louis’s room becomes four. Harry thinks, for a moment, that he can live likes this if he wakes up next to his best friend. But he quickly thinks that’s a bit insane. He loves Louis, but he doesn’t want this life. And no person can change that. 

It’s the early hours of the morning and they’re talking about tomorrow. “I want to keep asking you what you’re going to do for your birthday,” Harry says. “I already know the options are limited and what you’ve chosen.” 

Harry frowns as he rolls onto his side and rests his head on Louis’s shoulder. “Okay,” Louis mumbles. “So I’ll tell you what I’d do if I was still living in the outside world… Before, my sisters would gather with my mum and they’d all wake me up with _Happy Birthday_ ’s. Then we’d have breakfast. After breakfast, my mum would bake a cake and the girls and I would decorate it. I can’t even recall how many times the phrase _Happy Birthday, Louis_ has been spelled wrong. But, anyway. I’d have a few mates over and we’d just chill. I never ask for too much since we’re a big family but it was always great.” 

“That sounds fun. Your sisters sound fun,” Harry says softly. “I’m still hoping that we’ll get out. And if we get out, I want to meet them.” 

“ _If_ ,” Louis repeats. “Aiden and I would talk _If_ ’s for hours. Now even if escape is possible, we can’t do those If’s.”

Harry wishes he could find a way to rid of the sadness inside of Louis. He’s going to reply but he’s interrupted by an unusual sound from the door. He sits up and sees that a folded piece of paper has been slid under the door. He slides out of bed and walks over to the door to pick up the mysterious paper. Louis frowns, knowing what it is. He unfolds it and sees his name typed in bold print at the top and underneath it is a list of names and times. This is his work schedule. His heartbeat accelerates as he drops the paper, it sways in the air before hitting the floor. He turns to see Louis, who looks he’s unsure if he should hurry to Harry’s side incase he collapses. Harry rushes to his side of the bed and falls on top of him, hiding his face in the older boy’s chest as he begins to cry. Louis nuzzles into Harry’s hair as he whispers, “It’s going to be okay,” over and over again. But Louis remembers his first time in here. He was in pain yet felt so numb. The numbness slowly decreased but it still lingered. Aiden made it go away. But eventually, he went away too, leaving another void in Louis. Much bigger. Much stronger. 

That’s why Harry is a gift. He’s a distraction. Harry keeps his mind off the shithole he’s trapped in and how much it hurts that his lover is dead. But Louis loves him beyond that, beyond the ways that only benefits him. Louis wants to know more about him and his life before he was torn away from it. He wants to dive into Harry’s mind because he’s been left with his own for too long. 

Louis kisses Harry’s forehead as he squeezes him a little tighter. When Harry seems to have come down from his panic attack, Louis cautiously asks, “When is your first day?” 

“Tomorrow,” Harry says as he chokes up again. Tomorrow, Louis’s birthday. Hell, Louis wouldn’t be surprised if Marco did that with purpose. That look he gave Louis when he found Harry and him in the kitchen. He wants to break Louis down even more so he doesn’t start acting up again because of another boy. He’s going to break both of them. But Louis isn’t going to let him break Harry. 

“You’ll be okay,” Louis says and he’s sure of it. He knows what to do. He lets his plan settle in his mind as the sad boy lying on top of him cries himself out. Louis looks down at Harry, bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks, and feels like crying himself. He’s beginning to chip because he can’t handle that his purity will be stolen from him. But Louis can’t and won’t let him break. “You’re going to be okay, Harry,” he repeats. He’ll repeat it until his heart stops if it helps Harry. 

Harry is asleep on the bed beside him. Louis takes this as an opportunity to sneak out. He keeps himself aware of how much noise he makes as he slips out of bed and tiptoes out of the room. There’s no noise at all on the floor, it’s eerie. So Louis nearly screams when he passes a guard in the dining room. He stops him. “Can you tell Marco I’m coming to his floor?” He asks the big, scary man with a nice beard. He smiles as the aforementioned man yanks his walkie-talkie from his belt. Louis continues onward. 

He walks up the stairs, passing the doors for the stage and guest floor. He comes to the floor Marco shares with the personnel. The floor is similar to the boys’; long corridor with doors on opposite walls. But instead of elevator doors at the end of the hall, there is simply a door. The door to Marco’s office. He steps inside the room, eyeing the elevator doors behind the desk. He’s sure Marco has the day’s code somewhere in the room. But he wouldn’t try leaving without Harry. (He doesn’t know if this is only out of sentiment or not being confident in himself to remember how it was like in the outside world. Maybe a mix of the two.)

Marco enters the office with a robe over a simple white shirt and pants. He takes a seat behind the desk, covering where Louis desperately wants to be. “What’s the matter, Louis?” He asks as he clasps his fingers together and places them on the dark walnut wood. “You’ve already gotten your week off for your birthday, yes?” 

“…I-I don’t want it anymore,” Louis says. Marco looks shocked but overjoyed. “I want to pass my week break onto Harry. You can book me for seven days straight and I won’t complain during or after. Just give Harry one more week.”

Marco looks hesitant and mentally lists the pros and cons. He smiles and nods. “Okay, I’ll take you up on that,” he replies. “Seven days straight, Louis.” 

When Louis returns to the room and Harry wakes up, he doesn’t tell him. He knows how he’d feel if someone did this for him. He imagines Harry would feel similar. 

 

**Day Thirteen**

The bed is empty and cold beside Harry. This is not how he imagined the morning of Louis’s birthday. “Lou?” He calls out, hoping that he’s just in the en suite. But there’s no reply. He gets out from underneath the bedsheets and checks the en suite. But he’s not there. He sits in middle of the bed, slightly sinking in between the two mattresses.

There’s a knock at the door, and Harry wishes it’s Louis. But Louis wouldn’t have knocked. “Come in,” Harry says. A guard walks in and picks the schedule Harry hasn't dared to touch again off the floor. 

“We’re changing your schedule. You should be getting a new one soon,” He informs him. “So no work today.”

Harry smiles, relieved, and nods. But he wishes Louis was here so they can both be happy about this triumph. So so he waits because Louis is probably doing something necessary and will return soon.

 

**Day Fourteen**

Louis still hasn’t returned, which leaves Harry confused and scared. He’s searched the entire floor and asked several boys if they’ve seen the older boy. His disappearance is just bizarre because he has his week off. He gets his breakfast of French toast and sits next to Zayn. “Do you know where Louis is?” Harry asks before biting into his toast. The gorgeous boy beside him shakes his head. 

“Doesn’t Louis usually get his birthday week off?” Zayn asks with a raised eyebrow. “Or did he choose a gift this time?” 

“He got the week off, but I haven’t seen him since the night before his birthday,” Harry replies. Zayn interrupts his chewing and has an expression on his face that is unreadable to Harry. “What?” 

Zayn shakes his head as he continues chewing. He knows something. 

 

**Day Fifteen**

Harry plays Pac-man but he’s awful at it. He’s left in a circle of waking up, eating whatever breakfast he has the appetite for, going back to his room until dinner, then showering and falling asleep. There is nothing of interest added to his days without Louis. He goes back to his room and lies in the double bed that makes Harry feel just as empty. 

His new schedule finally arrives under the door. He musters up some strength and unenthusiastically throws off the covers to go retrieve the paper. He gets back under the sheets before he unfolds the paper and scans over the dates and times. This is when things fall into place and Harry falls apart. His first day has been postponed to the 1st. 

Louis gave him his week off. And Harry feels so fucking awful about it. 

 

**Day Seventeen**

Harry doesn’t get out of bed for anything but using the toilet since he lacks a lot of strength and general enthusiasm because of the amount of sleep he’s losing. He’s not happy with the fact that Louis is suffering for his own peace. This isn’t peace. 

Harry prays to God that they’re feeding him, giving him water, and breaks when he needs them. He prays that they aren’t hurting him. He would’ve be able to live with himself if Louis was being absolutely tortured. He breaks down crying as he ends his prayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUPER short, super boring. But I promise you the next chapter, whenever it comes out, will be better. Soz. I love you all. Thank you so much for the sweet comments.


	7. Chapter 7

**Day Nineteen**

Harry doesn’t want to be expecting Louis to return today because he’d hate to be disappointed. 

Harry hasn’t eaten properly for days and he’s not sure how many hours of sleep he’s had. He wakes up too many times because of dreams where Louis hates him or where Louis is crying out for him and he just can’t find him. The latter ruins him the most. 

He stares at the ghost of himself in the mirror, rings under his eyes and ribs looking more prominent under his skin that usual. He tears his eyes away from his reflection and splashes water on his face, licking a few droplets from his lips. He’s thirsty, he’s been thirsty for a while now. He gets a spell of dizziness and has to hold the edges of the sink. But when he hears the door open, he lunges back into the room. It’s not Louis. It’s Zayn. With a plate of food and a glass of water. 

Harry smells the food and feels his stomach scream at him. He hunches over as he places a hand on his stomach. “Jesus, Harry,” Zayn says as he quickly places the plate down on the bed and gets to Harry’s side. He gives him the water and places two firm hands on the boy’s shoulders, rubbing one of them comfortingly. “Drink your water,” he demands softly. 

His current state has Zayn worried, and Harry can’t help but cry. He’s close to choking on the water, but he finishes it. “I’m sorry,” Harry whimpers when he removes the glass from his lips. Zayn pulls him into an embrace and lets him cry. 

Zayn sets the dinner plate on the nightstand that sits in the corner of the room and climbs into bed next to the boy who’s drowning in despair. “You’re really dehydrated,” Zayn notes as he gently touches Harry’s face. “I can tell just from your skin, babe. What are you doing to yourself?” 

Harry can only shrug. He’s been subjecting himself to his own torture subconsciously. He snuggles close to Zayn because he’s seem to have forgotten the feeling of a person’s body against his own. Now he doesn’t want to spend a second without that feeling. “Louis gave me his week off,” Harry mumbles. “ _His_ week. And fuck, I just feel so fucking horrible about it.”

“I get it but you shouldn’t be hurting yourself over it. Louis did it for a reason, and it’s that he loves and cares about you,” Zayn whispers. “So he’d hate to see you putting yourself through this. I hate this too. I’ve seen way too many boys in this place starving themselves and nearly dying from what you’re doing. It gets to me because I’ve know every guy here pretty well. And if you died, I’m sure Louis would be devastated and I would be too. Everyone would. So please don’t continue this.”

Through watery eyes, Harry nods. “I’ll stop,” He squeaks. 

“Louis loves you a lot, I can tell. But you need other people to go to besides him, you know?” Zayn adds. There’s a pregnant pause before Zayn asks, “Do you love Louis?” Harry doesn’t reply and Zayn takes that as a sign of confusion. “Like… love love,” Zayn clarifies. And well, Harry doesn’t quite know. He’s dated a few boys but he’s never really felt like he was deeply in love with them, it was just playful. He had cried for a few days over them after breakups, but he was over them easily. He’s not familiar with love. “I sort of hope you do. I know about Aiden, everyone knows about Aiden, and I’m pretty sure Louis’s told you about him. I really don’t want to sound like an ass saying this but I want Louis to get over him. He’s trapped in his own twisted idea that love means willingly letting them weigh you down and suck the life out of you when they’re not around anymore. I think meeting someone else could be good for him. It can show him that there are other people for him.” 

And maybe Harry does want to be that person. Maybe he does love Louis. 

Before Zayn leaves, he watches Harry eat off the plate he brought him even though it’s nearly midnight. Once he’s eaten, he exits. Harry’s sleeping schedule is already fucked up so he doubts taking a shower right now could damage it any more. He washes out whatever conditioner is left in his hair and steps out. He’s pathetic, really, he is. He almost starts crying as he puts on Louis’s bathrobe. 

He sits in bed and watches the clock as it hits 12:00

**Day Twenty**

He’s still watching the clock as his eyes fill up with tears and spill out onto his cheeks. On the final day of last year, he was sitting curled into his mother’s side as they talked about memories that made them laugh and cry. Harry was excited that entire day because he loved New Years Eve. He didn’t have an inkling that his next New Years Eve would be inside a covert prostitution business. 

Harry wakes in a start when he hears the door click. He sits up, leaning back on his arms. “Louis?” He calls out softly as he stares at the dark figure standing by the door. 

He hears him clear his throat before saying, “Yeah?”

It’s him. Harry bites his lip because he’s so fucking relieved that he’s okay. But he hasn’t seen the visible damage yet. “Can you turn on the light?” He asks, voice shaky because he’s missed Louis so much and he’s scared of what he might see. There’s a silence that shows Louis hesitance. But he turns the dimmer down to its lowest setting and flips the switch. Slowly, he brings the brightness up. The two boys bare all under this light; Harry with the shadows under his tired eyes and paler skin, Louis with eyes to match and skin that reveals the torture he went through for him. Harry chokes up seeing the bruises and scratches. 

Louis gets into bed and kneels beside him to hold him. “I’m fine, Harry,” he insists. 

That doesn’t make Harry feel better, and Louis ends up sobbing with him. He thought he was helping this boy but he really wasn’t. He’s helped Marco crack him. They both start whispering, “I’m sorry,” back and forth. Harry wraps his arms around Louis and leans against him until he falls onto his back. He kisses Louis’s skin wherever it’s hurt. Maybe he does love Louis. 

The only thing keeping Harry’s naked body from Louis is his fluffy robe so he’s careful with his movements and positions. “I shouldn’t have left you like that,” Louis mumbles as he cards his fingers through Harry’s hair. Harry nods as he continues to drag his lips over Louis’s skin. He shouldn’t have left him at all. 

Harry’s kissing is interrupted by hands grabbing his face and pale blue eyes peering into his. He feels so naked. Louis’s eyes are welling up with tears and his voice trembles as he says, “You’re all I have.” The way Harry’s heart beats should be enough to tell him that he loves Louis. But then Louis brings their lips together and he’s sure his heart stops. His hands latch onto Louis’s body like he’s holding on to whatever life he has left and slowly wander around his skin, wanting to learn about his body with the intent of making him feel good. He wants to make Louis feel so good.

He’s weak but he straddles Louis’s lap without bringing their lips more than a few centimeters apart. His bare bottom sits right above Louis’s clothed, hardening cock. He pulls his lips away from Louis’s as he sits up and slides the robe off his shoulders, revealing all of his naked body. Louis’s seen Harry naked before but it’s different this time. Harry has his naked body out on display for him, only for him, and he’s a bit shy about it. Louis lets out a shaky breath before sitting up and capturing Harry’s lips again. It’s been so long since Louis’s kissed someone’s lips and felt tiny shocks wherever their lips were pressing together. 

_This isn’t supposed to be sexy,_ Harry thinks while he’s laid down on his back. They’re not doing this for pleasure but to bring themselves closer in a new way. He sighs softly as Louis kisses down his chest lovingly, leaving the tiniest trail of marks. The older boy stops his trail of lips at his hipbone. He looks up at Harry for any signs of hesitance or fear. He won’t do this if Harry doesn’t want it anymore. But the younger boy nods, signaling him to go on. 

Louis places two hands on his knees as he spreads his legs open and Harry blushes. He kisses the green-eyed boy’s knee before settling himself in between his two legs. Harry feels himself shiver at the feeling of Louis breathing moist air over his hole. He whimpers for more, and Louis gives it to him with the tip of his tongue softly circling his pink rim. Harry’s mind feels like a slot machine on overdrive in between licks, and every swipe and prod that finally comes is him hitting the jackpot again and again. 

Harry would feel silly over how much he’s moaning but he doesn’t have the time to feel that right now when the sensation is so heady. And then the feeling disappears and he opens his eyes to see Louis sucking on two of his fingers. Harry patiently waits for them to be inside him. 

The younger boy has explored his own body before, but the exploration is different and so much better when it’s someone else, someone you care for. Louis has his fingers buried as far as they can go inside Harry as they kiss, gently biting at each other’s lips. He finds Harry’s prostate when he angles his fingers and hits it in a way that Harry never could, making him nearly yelp. He smiles against the younger boy’s mouth as he slowly scissors him. 

Louis slides his fingers out and interrupts their kiss so he can spits on his palm before spreading his saliva over his fattened cock. “Ready, love?” he asks softly as he strokes Harry’s cheek with his unoccupied hand. Harry nods and keeps his eyes on Louis’s as he feels the head of his dick press against his entrance, teasing Harry with the tiniest dips inside. But Harry throws his head back into the pillows with great force as he’s being filled up with his cock at last. He finally takes a peek at his hole being stretched around Louis’s dick and feels lightheaded over how beautiful it looks. Louis bottoms out and lets out the breath he realizes he was holding. It hurts but it hurts so blissfully. Harry is seeing and feeling stars everywhere. 

He closes a fist around the sheets on the bed and turns his face to the side to bite down on his bicep as the older boy gently rotates his hips. Soon Harry’s had enough of it and needs more. “Jesus, Lou. Fuck. Fuck. Need something… more,” he begs. The older boy gives him tiny smile before nodding and kissing him. Harry gasps at the feeling of Louis pulling out, the delicious friction as his hole clings around Louis, and entering again, slowly for the first few inches and ramming himself in for the last inches. Whines leave Harry’s lips with every snap of Louis’s hips. The only thing that shuts him up are the lips that belong to the boy on top of him. Louis doesn’t stop kissing him unless he wants to take another look at Harry being gorgeously wrecked, precum dripping onto his stomach, his lips bitten, cheeks blotchy and the area from his neck to collarbones dusted red. 

Harry hadn’t had sex before now, so after he comes with a loud gasp and the high disappears, he feels a bit embarrassed that he only lasted a few minutes. Louis recognizes this and cups his cheek before praising him, “You did great, love. So great.” He manages a smile before Louis kisses him. He can feel Louis hard against his leg and this upsets him more than the humiliation of coming quickly. Louis can feel his frown. “You alright?” He asks. Harry flicks his eyes down at his erection and practically pouts. Louis smiles and pecks his lips. “You’re so caring. I’m fine, babe. I’ll finish myself off.” Louis stands on his knees and Harry, with his aching, tired body, positions himself right under his cock. Louis raises an eyebrow but doesn’t stop himself from wrapping his hand around his penis. He lazily tugs on it until he really feels the coils of pleasure in his lower belly being wound tighter and tighter. Harry watches in fascination at the skin covering and uncovering the head of Louis’s cock with every jerk. He looks up at Louis through his eyelashes and drops his jaw, an invitation for the older boy to spill his come into his mouth. And it does it for Louis. He digs his nails into the skin over his hipbone as he spurts white in and around Harry’s mouth. 

It’s a taste that Harry will have to get used to, but it isn’t terrible. He uses his fingers to swipe the come around his mouth into it, sucking on his digits and pulling them out with a pop. 

They both lie back down and that’s when Louis points out the drying come on Harry’s stomach. He smiles before getting out of bed and stepping into the restroom. Harry hears the sink faucet run before it shuts off and Louis exits with a towel in his hand. He looms over Harry before bending down to give him a kiss as he gently rubs his stomach with the wet towel. He parts their lips and gently pats Harry’s mouth with the towel. “You good?” He asks. He drops the towel once Harry nods. He crawls over Harry to get on his side of the mattresses. He sneaks his hand under Harry’s back to wrap both his arms around his waist, bringing him closer to spoon. 

“Please don’t leave me like that again,” Harry murmurs. Louis kisses behind his ear and hums in reply. 

“Once we get out of here, I won’t ever leave,” Louis coos softly. And Harry beams. “Nothing will keep us apart, love.”

_They’re going to get out._

Harry wakes up in the later hours of the morning with a wonderful soreness in his body and love pumping through his veins. He rolls onto his back and finds the double-bed missing its other person though. He huffs, but instantly realizes Louis’s just in the restroom. When the door unlocks with a click and opens, Harry sits up and smiles. But Louis looks startled. “Fuck, I didn’t know you were awake,” He breathes before laughing stiffly, eyeing the floor, wall, and ceiling. He rakes his fingers through his already ruffled hair and looks everywhere but Harry’s direction. The younger boy feels his stomach twist up. 

He parts his lips to speak but takes a moment to draw in strength, already feeling sick over the possible answers to his question. “W-what’s wrong?” He asks, bottom lip already beginning to quiver. 

Louis inhales, holds his breath, then exhales. He finally brings his eyes to meet Harry’s but only for a second. “I— Uh, I— Last night… or the earlier hours of this morning,” He begins, stalling to get to his point. Harry could almost cry at how much Louis doesn’t want to hurt him, and Harry could almost laugh at how futile his efforts would be. “…We had sex, didn’t we?” Harry bites his lip and nods, a single tear bubbling out of his lower lash line and rolling down his cheek. “Harry, I didn’t… mean to. I don’t know what got into me. I-It was a heat of the moment thing… I know I told you that I wouldn’t have sex with anyone because of Aiden, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I took your virginity, I know it meant something to you. I’m so sorry. I’d take it all back if I could.” 

That kills Harry. _You’re all I have._ He guesses it means nothing since Louis would take it back immediately. He sniffles and wipes the tears from his reddened cheeks. “Doubt it matters now but for whatever it’s worth, I don’t regret it and I’m glad it was you,” Harry says before getting out of bed. He walks into the en suite, purposely knocking Louis’s shoulder with his own as he passes him. The last day of the year and he’s trapped himself in a bathroom to cry. He bites down on the curve of his thumb to prevent any sounds from leaving his mouth. He knows Louis’s still on the other side of the door. 

The atmosphere between Louis and Harry is going to be affected by this. But he prays that this doesn’t hurt his chances of Louis helping him escape. He can’t be here especially after what happened. He knows it’ll drive him crazy rapidly if he was to see Louis everyday and try to forget the ways he made him feel physically and emotionally.

He picks himself up. He takes a moment to cup his hands over his mouth and breathe before he turns the shower handle on. He lets it run, giving it time to heat up. He looks at himself in the mirror and pokes at the lovebites that drag down nearly the entire height of his torso. He bites his lip, mentally threatening to punch himself if he cries again. He hopes the marks go away so he can try to forget. He won’t be able to but he tries to convince himself that he will. 

He sticks his head, along with his sopping wet hair, out of the en suite door and finds that Louis still hasn’t left the room. The older boy turns his head to look at him. Harry takes a breath before asking, “Can you get me a towel?” 

Louis goes to the dresser that’s been shoved to the corner of the room and opens the drawer with towels in it. He pulls out the softest one and walks over to give Harry the purple towel. He’s careful not to even brush fingers with him. Harry shouldn’t be as hurt as he is over it. But he’d probably die without his fix of Louis’s touch. Harry disappears back inside the restroom. 

He takes his time rubbing his towel over his body and drying his hair. But there’s a knock at the door. “Sorry, Harry, but I really need to pee,” Louis whines. “Could you please open up?” 

Harry wordlessly unlocks the door. Louis waits a few seconds after the _click_ to turn the doorknob and slide inside. “I can step out if you want,” Harry says.

“It… It doesn’t really bother me. I’m just peeing,” Louis says as he lifts up the toilet seat. 

“Okay. I need to get dressed anyway,” Harry remembers before exiting. He gets his boxer shorts over his ass just as soon as Louis steps out of the en suite. But he’s busy walking over to the closet and looking for a new robe. They orbit like planets, knowing where they are, never colliding. Harry wishes he could be swallowed by a blackhole. 

“It’s still time for breakfast. Want to go?” Louis asks timidly. 

Harry rubs a hand over his achey wrist and shakes his head. “My nerves for tomorrow are getting to my appetite,” Harry says, and there’s another reason too but Harry thinks Louis’s has the intuition to figure that out himself. “You can go without me… It’ll be fine.” 

Louis finally doesn’t seem afraid to stare at Harry, he just looks frustrated with the current situation they’ve put themselves in. He can’t let their friendship fall apart. He sucks it up and walks over to Harry before wrapping his arms around the younger boy’s body. It’s the awkwardest hug Louis’s ever experienced, but he doesn’t deem himself deserving of a proper hug after what he did to him. 

Harry wants to suffocate himself with Louis’s scent. He prays that Louis stops embracing him because he can’t have him this close so soon. He can already feel the strain in his throat as he holds back a sob. It’s pathetic, he wants Louis so badly even after the countless times he’s already mentioned that his tie to Aiden is one that can never be undone or forgotten. He’s bound to him forever, and ultimately, held down by this union. 

Louis finally extricates Harry from his arms and sighs. “We’re… We’re going to talk about it when I get back,” He says. And Harry’s not looking forward to this talk. He dreads it even more than his 12-year-old self dreaded the puberty and sex talk with his mother. But he stretches his lips into a tight smile and nods. “We’re gonna figure how to go about this thing, pal.” 

Harry’s thoughts deride him at hearing the word pal leave Louis’s lips. He’s a fool for thinking that Louis’s heart had enough room for him. But it lacks vacancy with the amount of space Aiden and the pain he’s left behind takes up. Harry watches him go. He’s left by himself and the memories that come alive wherever he looks in the room. He can’t stare at the bed and watch the mistake they made. 

Harry needs to talk to someone and cry on their shoulder. It proves to be a difficult task since the person he used to do that with is the reason for his tears. So he finds himself at Zayn’s door, knocking as he stares at the brass _6_. There’s no answer so Harry cautiously opens the door and steps inside. He hopes Zayn or his roommate doesn’t mind him waiting in their room. He sits on the floor with his back against the wall, not wanting to take any chances of sitting on the bed that doesn’t belong to Zayn. 

It’s 30 minutes before Zayn’s roommate walks in, clearly frightened by Harry’s presence. “Sorry, I’m waiting for Zayn,” He explains immediately. “I’m Harry.” 

“Oh, hi?” He replies, still hesitant to befriend. “I’m Emery.”

Harry nods before drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. He let’s Emery do what he needs without interrupting him. He’s sure it’s uncomfortable for him that he’s there, but Harry can’t feel bad right now. Louis is clogging up his emotions with his touches and words from last night. Thankfully, the door opens again and Zayn steps inside. “Harry?” He says before coming closer and kneeling down. “What’s up, mate? What are you doing here?”

“I just needed someone to talk to,” Harry answers vaguely. 

“Is it about Louis?” Zayn asks, gently stroking Harry’s sad face that has eyes already filling with tears. He nods. “Knew it. He seemed a bit off, too tense. Do you want me to get rid of Emery for a bit?”

“It’d… It’d be nice,” Harry replies, voice high and uneven. Zayn gives him an encouraging smile before standing up and walking over to the en suite where Emery is fixing his hair. He stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame, as he quietly asks Emery to exit. He does. 

Zayn returns to Harry, sitting down with his legs crossed right next to him. “So what happened?” He asks. That’s enough to send Harry into a wave of sobs. Zayn clicks his tongue and brings a hand to Harry’s head, comfortingly combing through his hair with his fingers, before guiding it down to his lap. He lets the boy cry for two minutes before he tries again, “What happened, babes?”

Harry takes a deep, trembling breath before starting, “He and I had sex.” 

Harry can hear Zayn stop breathing before he so quietly whispers, “Jesus Christ.” 

“And I thought he loved me… but he said that he’d take it all back. I love him, Zayn,” Harry lets out a broken wail hearing himself say it. 

“It’ll be okay, Harry,” He mumbles before leaning down and kissing his cheek. “There’s a possibility you’re not really in love with him too, ya know? I thought I was in love with a lot of boys here but it was only because I was scared and needed someone to assure me that I’d be alright. I didn’t know them, I only knew that they made me feel okay in such a scary place. It’s so easy to make such… an emotional bond when you’re both in fragile states.”

Harry shakes his head, denying his feelings for Louis as a misunderstanding. “I love him,” he repeats. 

Zayn sighs and starts to play with his hair again. “Okay, buddy,” he replies. “You love him. And it’s going to be okay. Maybe he loves you too. He’s just not ready to let go of Aiden yet.”

They settle into silence for several minutes before it’s broken by a knock at the door. And like Harry can sense his presence, he knows it’s Louis. He feels Zayn shift underneath him so he sits up to let him answer the door. “Hey, Lou… Yeah, he’s here. I don’t think he’s ready to see you yet,” Harry hears, very grateful for his friendship with Zayn. “He’ll come around when he’s better.” 

With that, he shuts the door and returns to his spot on the floor. “Thanks,” Harry croaks as he wipes his cheeks, trying to rid of the tears and the tightness on his skin caused by the dry tears. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” 

“I think talking about it really is a good idea,” Zayn coos before bringing his arm around Harry’s shoulders. “There’s not much else you can do.” 

“Should I go now?”

“Go when you feel ready.” 

“I think I am.” 

After getting a tight hug from Zayn, Harry exits the room and steps into the Champagne Hall. He soundlessly walks to his room and counts to 3 before twisting the doorknob and pushing the door open. He interrupts the pacing Louis is doing. “Harry,” he says after snapping his neck to look at him, eyes clearly filled with worry. 

“Hi,” Harry replies, still feeling awkward. Louis stares at him and glances down. Harry knows he looked at his marked chest, showcasing evidence of what occurred several hours earlier. “I don’t know how to start this talk… so I’ll just say it. I, um, I didn’t give into the sex just because you wanted it or because I wanted someone I knew to be my first. I wanted to have sex with you because I lo— I have feelings for you, Louis. I hate myself for it because I know I can’t have you.” 

Louis loses his words as his mind spins. He takes a deep breath and places one of his hands on the bed, putting some of his weight on it. “Feelings for me?… I don’t know how to respond. I didn’t mean for it to happen…” He says. “I-I can’t be with another person… Not here. But I still want to be friends with you, Harry.” 

Harry bites down on his lip and nods as tears accumulate on his waterline before pouring down his cheeks. “But I had to mean something, right? Y-You said Aiden was all you had,” Harry says, beginning to struggle at articulating his words because of his hiccups. He rakes both of his hands through his hair in frustration. “Last night, you said the same thing about me!” He shouts as he points at himself. He doesn’t mean to sound so livid, but he can’t prevent it.

Louis balls his fists and clenches his jaw. Harry would find his anger so erotic if he weren’t also so mad and heartbroken. “I didn’t fucking mean it,” he says quietly, his volume exhibiting how his blood is boiling inside. He expects him to start screaming like a kettle, but it never comes. “You aren’t Aiden. You will never be what Aiden was to me.” 

“Good. I wouldn’t want to be him. I wouldn’t want to be _dead_ weight,” Harry spits. He sees Louis’s defiant appearance falters, and Harry deflates. “Fuck, Louis, I didn’t mean that.” 

“Sure you did. You wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t,” He replies, his tone calmer which only makes it more disturbing. “I really am nothing but a delusional boy holding on to someone that’s never going to come back. I know it makes me pathetic. But you’re not allowed to say shit. You didn’t love him and you didn’t lose him. You’re just a scared, insignificant child that appeared here one day and believed you had a right to be upset because I’m not in love with you. Life isn’t a fucking fairytale. Grow the fuck up, Harry.” 

He walks to the door, stepping around Harry, and leaves with a loud slam. The sound of the door shutting echoes before Harry falls to his knees and breaks down. He doesn’t leave the floor even after the door opens again. “Oi, Harry, you okay?” Niall asks as he kneels down and places a hand on the younger boy’s back. Harry forces himself up and Niall finally sees the redness of his cheeks and eyes. “Shit, mate.”

He wraps his arms around Harry and brings him back down to the floor. Harry’s glad Niall chose the floor instead of guiding him to the bed. Harry doesn’t know if he’ll be able to sleep in his bed anymore.

Harry can’t handle the cruel process of being all Louis had to a scared, insignificant child. “Was this Louis’s doing?” Niall asks a moment later. Harry nods into his chest. “I’m sorry. Know you liked him.” 

“I _love_ him,” Harry corrects him. 

“God, that must be so fucked,” Niall says. “Things like that usually don’t go well here.” 

“I noticed.”

“But there’s cases of beer and liquor in the dining room for New Years. You can try to forget that heartbreak with alcohol, bro, and just have some fun,” He suggests. Harry knows it won’t work, but he thinks getting drunk would be nice. He begins to sit up. “Are you going?” He nods and Niall shoots up before giving him assistance in standing. 

In the dining room, the projector has been set up and lights up the wall with a countdown to midnight. There’s speakers playing music and a drink table. Harry breathes a little better since they’re not showing live footage from celebrations around the world. He wonders what his family is doing. Are they celebrating or still worrying about him? It would crush him in different ways if they were doing either. 

The countdown quickly switches to a message that reads: _If booked for the “Coming of the Year”, drink alcohol in moderation. Thank you._

Harry nudges Niall and asks him about the Coming of the Year. “Oh, are you working tomorrow?” Harry nods. “You’re booked for the Coming of the Year then. It’s not as spectacular as it sounds. Some old rich man likes to buy many boys for the first day of the year and have an orgy. He rarely does anything but watch.” 

It takes a lot for Harry not to start retching at the idea of himself participating in an orgy. But he thanks Niall for the information anyway. 

Harry goes over to the drink table set up in the corner of the room. Zayn steps up next to him. “Hey, Harry. You doing beer or liquor?” He asks. 

“Uh, I don’t really like either,” Harry answers. 

“Okay, I’ll make you a sweet drink if you want?” Zayn offers. Harry smiles and nods. He looks on as Zayn mixes White Zinfandel, pink lemonade, and lemon-lime soda. He then garnishes the pink drink with a lemon slice. “Uh, I hope you like it, babes.” 

Harry takes the fizzy drink from him and sips. He smiles around the rim of the glass. “It’s good,” Harry replies. Zayn smiles and scratches the top of Harry’s head. 

“You feeling better?” 

Harry just shrugs as he continues to drink the sweet beverage. He spots Louis on the opposite side of the room, making his way towards the gym and game room. “Louis and I had a fight,” Harry says. “I made our talk go wrong… I fucked it all up.” 

“Well, there’s still 11 hours left of the year,” Zayn replies. “There’s a possibility that you’ll make up before then.”

“That’s wishful thinking,” He mumbles sadly. He knows it won’t happen. 

The day drags on. When it gets to be too much, Harry goes back to his room, cries, composes himself, and returns to the dining room. He repeats this several times throughout the night. 

He’s sat at a table with Zayn when there’s 10 minutes on the clock. He’s far from tipsy after drinking 3 more Pink Fizzy’s and other sweet drinks Zayn made for him. In the corner of his eye, he can see Louis sitting at another table, holding a red cup in his hand. He hears him laugh and for a second, he feels like everything is okay. But he reminds himself of the crushing reality that they are not on good terms. 

He shuts his eyes as they start to sting in the inner corners due to tears beginning to leak out. “You alright, Harry?” Zayn asks over the music. With his eyes still closed, he nods. Zayn brings an arm around Harry and strokes his arm. “It’ll be okay.” 

Harry hides his face in the junction of Zayn’s neck and shoulder as the tears spill out of his eyes. He wants to wring himself dry of all the tears. He wants to stop crying. He sniffles and wipes his tears as secretly as he can before sitting up again, biting his lip to stop the next wave of emotion. There’s 5 minutes left of the year and the music seems to have only gotten louder and the boys seem to have only gotten drunker. He watches as a decent amount of boys pull each other onto the cleared floor to dance. 

“I suck at dancing, but it makes me feel better about stuff. Want to dance?” Zayn asks, holding out a hand for Harry to take. He hesitates before taking his hand and letting himself be led to the dance floor. Zayn gives him a smile as he takes both of his hands and dances him around the floor. When he almost trips, Harry has to stifle a giggle. 

“1 minute!” Someone yells. Harry and Zayn continue to dance through the last 60 seconds of the year. But on the last second, Harry grabs Zayn’s face and kisses him as the boys jump and cheer for the new year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go. Thanks for reading. xx


	8. Chapter 8

**Day Twenty-One**

Harry’s mind is brought to momentary ease by the pretty boy’s lips.

“Fuck,” Zayn says, looking passed Harry. The younger boy turns around and sees Louis stomping away to the gym/game room. “Harry…” 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t… Fuck. I’m sorry,” He apologizes profusely as the tears start again and his head feels dizzy. He’s such a fuck up. He leaves Zayn there on the dance floor, still too stunned by everything. He follows Louis into the other room and finds him at the Pac-Man arcade game. “Louis.” 

“Louis what?” He replies, venom dripping off his tongue. “Are you going to apologize? I don’t want an apology. I want you to leave. You can’t just… tell me you have feelings for me, talk shit about my dead boyfriend, and kiss my friend… and apologize.”

“I—“

“Just fuck off, Harry,” Louis says as he loses the game. Harry feels his heart sink to his stomach and nods. He swallows his hurt and shame as he exits the room. Louis lets out an angry scream as he punches the game screen upon seeing _that_ fucking name again. His knuckles bruise almost immediately. 

Harry retreats to his room. He grabs a pillow and a sheet off the double bed he and Niall still haven’t separated. He pulls them to a corner of the room, places the pillow down, and lays himself on the floor, wrapping the sheet around himself. He falls asleep easy, tired out by his emotions. 

“Harry, wake up,” Niall says softly as he shakes his shoulder. “You need to get ready for the C.O.T.Y.” The younger boy blinks his eyes open, flickering the sleepiness out of them. He groans as he sits up and stretches. “How’s your head? Bad hangover?” 

“Kinda,” Harry answers, but it’s actually fucking terrible. 

“I’ll get you some water before we go upstairs.”

Niall exits after Harry starts to get himself ready. He sheds his clothing and steps into the shower. The steam seems to cleanse his pores that are clogged with his ugly emotions from last night. When he’s finished, he exits the en suite and finds Niall sitting down with the glass of his water still held in his hand. “Got your water,” he says. Harry smiles and takes it from him, downing it to relieve his headache. “Let me give a summary of how bookings like this usually go down. We go to the floor above ours, the guest floor, and find the room we’re assigned to. There’s a guard outside the door for bigger things like this and he checks your name off when you walk in. The C.O.T.Y is usually 30 minutes but it could be longer.” 

They head upstairs, following a line of other boys also booked for the day. Harry feels his nerves in his stomach. He and Niall briefly chat as they wait to enter the room. The closer he gets to the guard, the more his anxiety grows. 

“…Harry Styles?” The guard says in question. Harry nods and the guard waves him in. Inside, he finds boys dressed, undressed, and beginning to undress. He keeps his clothing on. He walks to an emptier corner of the room and plays with his hands. He’s not sure what to do. 

He’s approached by a boy with caramel hair similar to Louis but it isn’t the same style. His is shorter and wavy. “Mate, I don’t want to fuck anyone or be fucked, so can I just blow you the entire time as soon as Griffin arrives?” he asks bluntly. “I’m James, by the way. So what do ya say?” 

Harry hesitates before nodding. He guess he’s on the same boat as James. He doesn’t want to fuck with anyone. A blowjob wouldn’t be as bad. 

The old man, Griffin, arrives moments later dressed in a velvet red robe and slippers. He steps inside and takes the seat in the corner of the room where he has a view of everything. The guard shuts the door behind him, but he then opens it again to let someone else in. Louis. 

Harry’s eyes are glued on him as he walks across the room, not looking in Harry’s direction because he knows he’s there. He feels him. The door is shut again. 

James gets to his knees and looks up at Harry. “I’m gonna suck you off now,” he informs. Harry bites his lip and nods. He watches him slowly pull down his boxer shorts before his eyes are seduced by the knowledge that Louis is in the room and begin to look for him again. Harry inhales sharply as James’s lips wrap around the head of his cock right when he spots Louis fucking a boy that isn’t Harry. James swallows all of Harry and that’s when he feels his legs start to weaken at the sensation. It’s so good, but he wishes it were Louis. He’ll always want Louis to be the god of his pleasure and do what he pleases with him. 

Harry moans loudly as the tip of his cock hits the back of James’s mouth. He puts a hand in his hair and gently tugs. Harry hopes he can be blown for the entirety of the session.

He’s able to control the warm bubbling in his stomach easily for the first 15 minutes, but he has to take off his robe from how much heat is spreading throughout his body. Harry’s extremely glad that James takes breaks when he tires out or his jaw hurts. He feels bad for it, but he assumes James would say something if he was very unhappy with the situation. James powers through his aching jaw. 

Harry is brought back to how much he misses Louis’s mouth and looks up to find him in a different position with the boy he’s still plowing. The stranger is laying on the bench sofa placed near the center of the room with Louis in between his legs, fucking him into the cushion. Harry can hear the boy moaning and feels himself heat up with jealousy, remembering the noises he made because of Louis. He looks down at James and watches him work his mouth around his dick before asking, “How much time his left?” 

James pops off his cock and pumps it with his fist as he answers, “It depends when the old man comes.” Harry briefly wonders if the old man still has the ability to ejaculate. He takes a quick glance at the man, who’s jerking his cock. “But I say we have 5 minutes left.”

“Are you sure—,” he cuts himself off to moan, “—you don’t want me to blow you too?” 

“I’m fine, thanks,” he gives Harry a smile before sliding his dick back inside his mouth. Harry considers himself lucky to have been chosen by James. 

He looks back to Louis. He wishes he could go back to the night where they fucked up and stay there in a constant loop. He’d never leave the moments where he felt pleasure on another scale and believed that Louis loved him. And like he could hear his thoughts, Louis looks up and locks eyes with him, lips parted for the tiny moans to escape and eyes stone cold as the speed of his hips never wavers. Harry’s knees nearly give out as he comes instantly at the sight. It almost hurts how hard he comes. He realizes then that Louis doesn’t have to be touching him to be in control of his body. 

James stands up, placing a hand on the back of Harry’s neck before pulling him in for a kiss to share the come in his mouth. When he pulls away, he says, “Sharing it since you didn’t give me a heads up.” Harry’s cheeks turn red with embarrassment before he apologizes. “It’s okay. Good timing. I think Griffin just came.”

Slowly, the entire room fills with the different noises that orgasms elicit from every boy, who come just for the sake of wanting to leave. It must be God’s sick joke that Harry can make out Louis’s whine underneath all of them. 

He pulls on his boxer shorts and his robe and waits for them to be released. Griffin wordlessly stands up and exits the room. For a second, no one moves and it’s an uneasy atmosphere for Harry. But finally, the one boy moves and leads the group outside. Harry hesitates, not wanting to exit the same time as Louis, but seeing as he isn’t moving either, he must be planning the same thing. So Harry goes. 

In his room, Harry takes another glance at his schedule and sees he has an hour on stage. He swallows thickly around the disgust in his throat. Niall steps in and waves at him. “How was that?” He asks. 

“The C.O.T.Y?” Niall nods. “Well, I was only blown so it was good… Hey, I’m on stage tomorrow. How does that go?” 

“Uh, I don’t know. I’ve never been on stage. But I know a lot of boys don’t like it,” he admits. “Too… brutal. They make you push your limits.”

Harry’s breath hitches. His bum still has the slight ache from Louis, he doesn’t know if his poor ass can take anything more. But in the back of his head, he’s hoping they hurt him. He’s worthy of it after what he’s done. He’s not made entirely ill by tomorrow’s event so when it’s time for breakfast, he goes to the dining room with Niall. Louis has already claimed Zayn at the table. So Harry sits with Niall and starts to cut his pancakes. His stomach feels so grateful to have proper food after so long. “Ay, Niall, who’s this lad?” a voice asks before sitting down beside Harry, who can’t be bothered to reply right now with a mouth full of pancake and honey. His dark brown eyes peer into his but they’re mostly friendly. 

“This is Harry. He was a newbie,” Niall answers. “You’ve never seen him around?” 

“Can’t say I have,” he replies. “I’m Ty, mate.” 

Harry quickly shakes the hand he extends to him. “Harry is going on stage tomorrow. And he wants to know how that goes down,” Niall says. 

Ty snorts. “I’m trying to eat me food, but I’ll tell ya,” He puts his fork down. “Did you see any notes on your schedule? Sometimes they’ll write if your doing bondage or something like that.” 

“I think I saw BDSM written on it,” Harry replies with a small voice, feeling kind of dumb since he’s not aware what those letters mean together. 

“Shit, mate. That’s going to be a wild ride. You know what BDSM is, right? Bondage, discipline, sadism, masochism, ya know? You’re going to get tied up and hurt,” He says honestly. “They’re going to use you. Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m probably making this horrible already.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Harry assures him. “I need every detail… Need to know what’s going to happen.”

Ty nods before he continues, “Marco’s guards blindfold you before you get on stage so you don’t know who’s inflicting the pain on you until the very end when they take it off. Depending who it is, you either get aftercare from them or not. Usually when someone’s paid to be the sadist, they don’t give you aftercare. But some boys here don’t bother themselves with aftercare either.”

Harry thanks him for the information and continues eating. He places his dishes in the washing bin before starting the journey back to his room. But he’s stopped before he enters the Hall. He turns around and finds Zayn, who has a firm grip on his arm. “Hi,” he say as Zayn releases his arm. 

“Louis is mad,” he blurts. “He’s really mad at you, kinda mad at me, but he’s also… like really depressed about it all.” 

“Why?” Harry snaps a little because really, it is all Louis’s fault. He’s the one that made Harry melt. 

“Because, you twat, he likes you a lot. He just won’t admit it. And then you kissed me,” he replies, gently shoving Harry’s chest. “You and Louis are both idiots. You’re made for each other.” 

With that, he steps into the Hall and walks back to his room. Harry is left processing everything for a moment too long, probably looking peculiar just standing in front of the dining room doors. But finally, he steps out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii. This was really lame. Sorry. Next chapter though!! Also before I actually update again, I should say the next chapter could be found triggering or might squick some of you. So go about that with caution. I'm starting school again so my updates might be further spread apart. Thank you, lovelies. x


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing as I'm back in school and possibly not going to update again until this weekend or maybe even next week, here is this chapter. Just gonna reiterate a quick warning since even writing this made me uncomfortable to imagine in my head. Don't want to completely take someone by surprise and repulse/trigger them. Okay. Thanks. all the love

**Day Twenty-Two**

The clock in Harry’s mind begins to countdown as soon as he wakes up. The act isn’t until the later hours of the day but every fiber in his body is now beginning to feel antsy. He gets out of his bed that has now been separated from Niall’s and pushed back into its respective corner. Niall’s absence tells Harry that he’s late for breakfast. Fearing the dizziness he experiences occasionally, he goes out to the dining room. He will not pass out on stage. 

He slides into the seat next to Niall with French toast on his plate. “Hey, Harry. Sorry… Didn’t want to wake you. You were up pretty late,” Niall says. Harry shrugs. “How are you feeling?” He shrugs again. 

Zayn sits down next to Harry and sighs. “Hi, lads. I don’t know where Louis’s off to and I don’t want to be alone,” he says, explaining his presence at the table. It’s been a day and Harry’s yearning to talk to Louis, try to keep from acting out solely on his emotions, and finally fucking fix things. But without the alcohol or raging emotions to remove his inhibitions, he’s too much of a coward to do so. “He was still acting like a knob but he seems better.”

Harry nods as he finishes the last bite of his French toast. “I hope things end up well for you and Louis,” Niall says as he stands up. “I’m fuckin’ starving so I’m gonna pick up more food.” No one comments on the fact his plate is still full of food. 

When he leaves, Harry clears his throat and says, “Uh, yeah, I’m finished.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later, babe,” Zayn mumbles. Harry sighs as he stands up before pressing a kiss to his cheek. He puts his dish away and grabs a water bottle as he starts back to his room. He sips at his water before lying down in his bed. Harry’s body tells him how tired it is by how much comfort his mattress brings. But he can’t get any rest with the images of Louis in his mind, when he was loving Harry, when he was fucking someone else. Both upset him, both wake up the fire in his lower stomach. 

He sits up to remove his robe and drink more water, hoping to control the way his skin is beginning to rise in temperature. But to no avail. Harry feels his cheeks burn with shame as he pulls off his boxer shorts to face his hardening cock. It’s begging to be touched by anyone, but Harry only wants Louis. But seeing as he’s not in his good graces, he doubts Louis would be so kind to get him off. So he sucks it up, spits on his palm, and closes a tight fist around his dick. 

Every time his mind clock hits another hour, his levels of unease rise. He has 3 hours. He anxiously taps his fingers on the cafeteria table before spooning soup into his mouth. It burns his throat and brings him back to the present. 

“You okay?” Zayn asks, squeezing his knee. The younger boy flinches in surprise at the touch but he nods. “You sure?” 

He sighs and shakes his head. “I’m not feeling my best,” he admits. “Can’t stop thinking about being on stage. Wondering what they’re going to do to me.” 

“You’ll be fine, mate. If you need it, I’ll be here for you. I’ll care for you,” Zayn says, comfortingly rubbing his hand up and down Harry’s bicep. Harry nods with a worried pout still on his lips. Zayn uses two fingers to push on Harry’s jaw. “Look at me, Harry.” 

He follows the command and takes a deep breath. “Okay, I’m okay now,” he replies. Zayn gently pats his cheek before bringing his hands back to himself. Harry just watches him, lets himself be anchored down by him and the simple way he drinks his juice. “…Zayn?” 

Zayn hums in question as his response before his face is turned towards Harry’s and his lips are captured by the younger boy’s again. It rattles him that Harry would do this sober but he doesn’t fight him off. After the kiss, he’ll talk to him about it but for now, he gives in to the younger boy’s need. He feels Harry’s pointed tongue slide against the opening off his mouth. He shouldn’t do it, but he parts his lips to let him in. Harry places both of his hands on Zayn’s jaw as he begins to lick into his mouth. Harry continues to lap at Zayn’s tongue as he slowly pulls his mouth away. 

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles as he looks everywhere but Zayn’s eyes. 

“N-no… It’s fine,” Zayn says. “We just can’t keep doing that.”

“Okay,” Harry replies. “You taste like orange juice.” 

Zayn giggles, causing blood to rush to Harry’s cheeks. 

His mind clock is counting down from an hour, leaving him pacing in the empty space of his room. He knows that his panicking doesn’t benefit him, but he can’t stop himself. He’s trembling even when he stands under the warm water coming from the shower head. He dries off and gets dressed in the en suite, hoping to leave behind all his distress in the tiny room. Not a chance. 

Zayn walks him to the staircase and gives him a kiss on the head for good luck. God knows Harry’s going to need it. With limbs that feel full of cement, he walks up to the stage floor. Backstage, he’s met with an image that looks exactly like the craze during a play at his school (except for all the nudity, of course). Makeup and outfits, mostly leather or lace, and nerves settling deep inside everyone behind the curtain who have yet to go on. A woman, the first woman he’s ever seen here, walks up to him with a clipboard resting on her arm. “Who are you?” She asks as she flicks her streaky blonde hair behind her shoulder, already going down the list.

“Uh, uh, Harry Styles,” he stammers. She nods as she finds his name.

“You’re last, you have 30 minutes to get into costume,” She says. “The costumes are on the rack over in that corner. Your name should be on the hanger.” 

She quickly points behind herself and walks away. He goes in the direction she pointed, discovers that there are more women here, and does find the row of clothing. He’s gotten the rack with lace instead of the leather rack on the opposite side. With his skin already starting to burn like fire with his nerves, he’s glad he didn’t get the heaviness of leather. 

He flicks through the kits, searching for his name. He can’t help but notice how tiny everything looks. If he gets hard in underwear— no, in _panties_ \-- like the ones everyone else seems to be wearing, he won’t be able to contain it in that small piece of fabric. He realizes that’s really the least of his problems. He keeps down the vomit that keeps fighting against him.

He finally finds his choice of outfit. It’s pink and girly and Harry knows it’s going to be a humiliating night for him. He starts to undress, swallowing the lump in his throat. He carefully takes the lace, cheeky underwear and slips his legs through it. He tucks his cock away after. Then he moves onto pulling his white stockings just above his knee. He’s seen lingerie catalogs so he knows how they’re supposed to be worn. The suspender belt he has a bit of trouble with. He’s not exactly sure what it is a first. It looks like a ruffled skirt with no behind but it has straps, further confusing him. 

It hits him as soon as he has it just under his waist. He extends the straps and attach the clasps to his tights, front and back. “Get back in there!” Harry hears behind him. He whips his head back to see Louis being shoved back into the stage floor. “You do as your told, Tomlinson.” 

The guard shuts the door to the staircase in his face. Harry averts his eyes when he feels like Louis is going to look his way. He steps in front of black vanity and stands back just enough to see his entire body. The same woman with the clipboard comes back around. “Harry, you have 10 minutes. Get to makeup,” she says, passing by him. His eyes follow her as he’s yanked in the other direction and sat down in a chair. The darker-haired woman starts applying makeup to his face with brushes, sponges, and other tools. She finishes quickly and tells him he’s done after applying mascara to his eyelashes. He stares at his painted face and hardly recognizes himself. His cheeks are shiny and pink on the highest point. His eyelashes are darker and contrasts against his green eyes. If he had longer hair, he’d look like a girl. Right now, he just looks like a very feminine boy. “2 minutes, Harry.” 

Harry feels like his throat might close up. He slides off of the chair and begins to near the edge of the curtain. As a child, Harry imagined himself on stages but not like this. He’s stopped by another worker. He brings pink silk to Harry’s face before he ties it around his head, covering his eyes. Harry gasps as his eyes are rendered useless. The hand on his back guides him passed the curtain and onto the wooden stage, where he hears the plaudit of the audience. 

He is sat in the center of the stage thrust, hands tied behind the chair with fuzzy handcuffs. Harry feels his heart beat rapidly as he anticipates what will happen first. 

He sharply inhales as smooth leather begins to run up his chest before he’s hit with it, making him yelp and pull against his restrained wrists. It’s a crop. 

He feels it brush against his face before it’s poking him, telling him to sit back. He does. The leather drags back down to his chest again, but this time it circles his right nipple before striking it, eliciting the same response from earlier but louder. His other nipple receives the same treatment shortly after. 

His ass is brought to the edge of his chair as his legs are lifted into the air. He feels the leather crop gently pull his panties aside, displaying his hole to the audience. He hears a sound of awe float through the crowd. He bites his lip, trying to stop the hot tears of humiliation. The arm pushing back on his legs disappears so he begins to lower them. But he’s whipped and shoots them back up. He feels fingers pushing his pink lace to the side and circling his hole before breaching it dry. A hiss exits his mouth as the digit goes further inside. He lets out a whine of discomfort once the finger is knuckle deep

The finger is removed and replaced by something colder, but Harry can tell it’s lubricated. The cold object pushes against his rim and slowly enters. It’s not bad until it seems to swell the further it goes in. Harry did not get the proper preparation for this. Another screech leaves his mouth as he stretches around the bulbous object. It’s a buttplug but way bigger than the one he used to own. His hole shrinks around the narrow neck and he feels the base just in between his cheeks. 

There’s nothing for a good 10 seconds before Harry feels his cuffs being fiddled with. He hears a _click click_ and the cuffs fall from his wrists. A hand wraps around one of his arms before hauling him to his feet. Then his cock is hit with cold as his panties are roughly slid down his thighs, stopping just above his garter clips. Harry’s holds his breath as the crop runs underneath his semi and he chews on his bottom lip, waiting for the pain. But it doesn’t come. Instead, he’s hit right where the metal clasps are on both thighs, giving it an extra sting. His clasps are undone before his panties are pulled back up and he’s shoved onto the floor. His chin hits the wooden stage with a painful thump. 

His whole body tightens with every whip to the back of his knees, back, and the flesh of his bum that peeks out of his underwear. His hips are pressed into the floor with a shoe stepping on his arse, slowly adding more and more weight to it. His cock is painfully sandwiched in between his stomach and the floor, and he can feel it leaking against his skin. The foot goes to the base of the buttplug and nudges it deeper inside, jabbing at his prostate. The sound that leaves him is an embarrassingly ugly mix of a moan and a wail. He scratches at the floor, trying to grab onto something, but it’s without success.

The buttplug is popped out after his panties are slid down to his ankles and he hears it roll around the floor. A hand gets tangled in his hair, harshly pulling on it to force him back onto his feet. The hand continues to tug, making him walk backwards until he’s stopped by hitting the other man’s chest. He hears the chair legs drag against the floor before he’s pulled down to the man’s lap, feeling his uncovered cock slot right where his crack starts. He shudders, knowing what’s coming next. Strong hands come under the back of his knees and raise him in the air. He hears the audience react enthusiastically. 

He feels the stranger’s cock tip line up with his puckered hole before lowering him down on it. Harry shows off the column of his neck as he hangs his head back and shouts. He continues to cry out in pain as he’s bounced in the man’s lap, listening to the stranger's low grunts and feeling his own cock swing up and down in between his legs. His nipples are abused by fingers pinching, twisting, and scratching at them. Harry’s sure they’re red with sensitivity, maybe even bleeding at this point. Even with how much he dislikes the pain, his cock is achingly hard as it slaps against his stomach, the fabric of his garter brushing against it. 

“Stop, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Harry cries out as his cock spurts white, and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts. With the audience applauding his orgasm, he starts crying and soaks through his blindfold. He’s pulled off the man’s cock and walked back to the edge of the stage thrust. There, he stands with shaking legs as he listens to the sound of footsteps slowly lowering in volume just as other footsteps grow louder. But they are the steps of bare feet. 

Harry stiffens as he feels the presence of different person behind him, gently breathing down his neck and shoulder. But it doesn’t frighten him the same way the crop did. A smaller hand grabs hold of his hair and tugs it until his neck is left completely exposed. He feels teeth sink into his skin and the pain courses through his body as his knees slightly buckle. He feels his tongue lap at the harmed skin before pulling away entirely. 

The young boy is on the floor again, this time on his back. The same tongue is licking at his nipple, circling the erect bud. It’s better than what the previous man did. Harry lets out the softest moans, growing louder when a hand wraps around his still sensitive cock. He tries to smack the hand away, instantly regretting it. 

He prepares himself for the punishment that should follow his resistance. But there is none. Even more surprising, the fist around his dick removes itself. 

He’s slid around the floor, rotated slightly right to give the audience better views of the things they want to see. His knees are pushed up to his chest to allow access to his already abused hole. He bites his lip again, waiting to be impaled and hurt once more. 

The stranger’s cock slides in easily, but Harry is still nicely tight around him. It’s gentle at the start, giving more time for Harry to recover before it gets harsher. Eventually, the snap of his hips is enough to have Harry’s back dragging against the floor. It loosens the tie on his blindfold, his eyes are shortly uncovered after and he’s met with a sight he almost doesn’t believe. He should’ve realized how familiar it felt. 

He stares into blue eyes as his own start to flood with tears. Louis face is expressionless, never breaking his gaze with Harry. The younger boy chokes up and starts to squirm. Louis hates himself for it, but he has to pin him down. He can’t keep his neutral face as it contorts into sadness and his eyes too start to water, watching Harry scream and cry through his moans being too much for him to handle since he knows he’s the one causing it. He presses his forehead against Harry’s chest to hide his crying eyes as he angles his hips and works Harry’s body harder, just wanting to be done with it. 

Through his blurred eyes, Harry can still make out the notes being thrown. He’s the crying bottom everyone wants. Louis knows this too, and he wishes he could wrap himself around Harry and hide him away from the scum in the room. But he can’t. He has a job to do. Today, his job was to have his prostate milked in front of everyone. But Marco decided last minute to add Harry to Louis’s list of things to do. 

He feels so sick with himself. He should’ve tried harder to resist. He doesn’t know how Harry will ever look at him again. To start his apology, he kisses down Harry’s chest softly, lips following the trail of ghost love bites. He wants Harry back but not in that way. He doesn’t want Harry to become a weapon used against him. He can’t have that happen again. 

He brings his eyes back up to observe Harry’s state. He’s still stunned by the turn of events but closer to accepting it before. His eyes have stopped leaking as much. His noises aren’t as intense. Louis brings a hand to his face, thumb wiping at the mascara streaking down his temples and cheeks. When he looks back into Harry’s eyes, they’re absent.

He doesn’t know when Harry slipped away. 

He needs this to be over now. He wraps his hand around Harry’s shaft, receiving louder whines as he pumps him. He needs the show to be over, he needs to make Harry come again. He rubs his thumb over Harry’s slit that’s bubbling out clear precum and gently rolls his balls around in his hand. With another hit to his prostate, Harry screams as his back arches off the floor and come shoots onto his chest messily. Louis pulls out and kisses the skin of the quivering boy as the set of curtains start to move around the stage thrust, finally creating a barrier between them and the audience at last. 

He sucks at his jaw as he carefully pats the other side of his face. “Harry, Harry… Come back to me now,” he coos. Harry’s chest heaves as he recuperates from his second orgasm. His eyes briefly lock onto Louis’s but they’re still lost. Louis continues to cup his face and encourage him to return to him. “Harry, baby, I need you here with me now.”

Harry’s eyes seem to roll back in his head, mind still too hazy with overstimulation. His eyes follow the red curtains that surround them before falling back onto his beautiful blue-eyed friend. “Louis,” he mumbles. 

“Yes, Louis,” He replies, trying to pull him back in through this tiny window he’s been given. “I’m here, Harry. Are you here? Are you back?” 

“Louis,” he repeats as two working boys walk out onto the thrust and hand Louis a robe while just laying Harry’s on the floor beside him. “Louis.”

“I’m here,” he replies as he slowly pulls the panties tangled around the younger boy’s ankles back up to his hips before bringing him into his lap, cautious about his violated bum. He draws swirls into Harry’s back, just around the knobs of his spine. Louis wishes he was holding Harry under better circumstances, but life isn’t a fairytale. He kisses Harry’s shoulder as he continues to whisper, “You did so well. Need you here, baby.” 

“Louis,” says once more as his eyes finally begin to focus. Louis wraps his arms tighter around him as he begins to come back. But with returning comes the realization of what’s been done to him. “ _LouisLouisLouis_ ,” he whines into his chest, body shaking violently. 

“I’m here, love, I’m always here,” Louis says as he hides his face in Harry’s curly locks, his eyes also being sieged by tears once again.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should really apologize for being gone for more than a month. I can't even lie and say that I've been trying to catch up on writing. I'm so behind. I really like the plot of this fic but I just can't write it well enough to please myself. It's also kind of emotionally draining to write, honestly. So I should probably warn all of you that the next chapters are going to be kind of shite because I really just want to finish this and give you lot an ending. I can't predict when the next chapter will be put up. I'm sorry if I've let any of you down. Thank you for reading. x

**Day Twenty-Three**

Louis’s fingers get caught in Harry’s wet hair with every rake of his scalp. Harry is still gasping around tears from where they lie in the bathtub with the shower head pelting them with tiny drops of warm water. Louis has one arm keeping Harry’s curled naked body close to his.

“You’ll be okay, baby. You’ll be okay. The pain doesn’t last forever,” Louis says as convincingly as he can because he doesn’t know if he quite believes that himself. But it’s what Harry needs to hear. 

Harry looks up, lips and eyes nearly bloody, and he chokes out, “I’m disgusting.” He lets out another loud, ugly wail into Louis’s chest. “I’m disgusting. I’m used. I’m used,” he continues to repeat it to himself until he’s screaming it and unknowingly digging his nails into Louis’s side. 

“No, no, no,” Louis shakes his head as he presses his cheek against Harry’s head and has to bite back a sob. He takes the hand Harry’s using to mark his skin and holds it tightly, fingers filling the spaces in between his. “No, Harry. Stop saying that.” 

Louis brings their hands up to his face just to kiss Harry’s knuckles over and over, whispering small _You’re not used_ ’s into his wet skin. “L-Louis, did I bleed? Was there bl-blood?” He asks as he looks up at the older boy with terror in his eyes. Louis is sure he didn’t see blood at all so he shakes his head but that doesn’t stop Harry from sitting up slightly as he tears his hand away from Louis’s and uses a finger to check, shuddering at the tiny sting it brings his sore hole. He checks the tip of his finger for any red.

“No blood,” Louis says upon seeing his clean finger, relief flooding his veins because he knows how detrimental it’d be to Harry’s already crumbling state if he had been hurt that much. “No blood, baby. You’re okay.” 

Harry brings himself back to Louis’s chest as his eyes continue to drip, wrapping his arms tight around the older boy’s waist. Louis hates himself for letting Marco force him to do what he did.

With his skin becoming uncomfortable, he shifts, trying to loosen Harry’s lock on his body to reach the shower knob. But the younger boy whines in fear when he feels the movement. “Don’t go, Louis. Please don’t go,” he panics. 

“Not going anywhere. We need to get out of the shower, baby. We look like two raisins in here,” Louis replies with a chuckle, hoping to get even the smallest smile out of the boy. But alas, it’s unsuccessful. He figured. Harry shakes his head. He doesn’t want to move from where they are, doesn’t want to stand. He knows he’ll feel the pain shoot through his body with every step he takes. And he’ll feel the several pairs of eyes on him and he’ll hear the sounds they make when his moans border howls. He’ll feel the degradation all over. 

And Louis will be there to pick up the pieces again. 

“Do you want me to carry you out of here?” Louis mumbles softly. “I can do that for you if you like. You don’t have to let go for a second.” Harry hums in approval. “Okay, just help me out a bit.”

Louis manages to get to his feet with Harry still latched onto his body. Harry winces only once during the entire process. Louis carefully flips the shower off and steps out of the tub, wary of his every step to not trip and throw Harry. He grabs a single towel and exits the restroom. 

At Harry’s bed, he messily spreads the towel and gently lays Harry down on it. “I’ll be right back, love,” Louis whispers, and even when Harry makes grabby hands and whines again, he still steps back into the en suite to get two more towels. With one wrapped around his waist, he uses the other to dry Harry off. 

Harry pouts. “I’m… I’m not a _child_ , Louis,” he spits before yanking the towel out of the older boy’s hand. Louis’s heart stings with regret. 

“I know you aren’t,” he says with a frown. “And I know that you’re strong enough to go through this alone and not need me to cuddle you, but I still want to. Can I still cuddle you, Harry?” Harry doesn’t drop his stubborn expression as he shrugs, and Louis can’t stop the smile that stretches his lips before he jumps over Harry and settles in beside him. He holds Harry’s hand with both of his and presses his forehead to Harry’s shoulder joint, gently nosing his soft skin. “How are you?” 

“Still feel disgusting,” Harry answers impassively.

“You’re not.” 

“Doesn’t change how I feel.” 

Louis nibbles on his bottom lip before he asks, “Did… Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Harry says as he stiffens uncomfortably. “You didn’t hurt me.” 

“You cried a lot more…” 

“Yeah. Well… it wasn’t because I was in pain.” 

“Then what?” Louis asks, voice rising a little in frustration. He shuts himself down and quietly apologizes. He watches as Harry’s demeanor changes yet again but it doesn’t return to the same emotional height from minutes earlier. 

Harry lets out a shaky breath as he thinks of his explanation. Tears line his eyes and he tries to blink them away, he’s had enough crying. He doesn’t dare look at Louis as he begins. “I think I-I love you,” he says even though he’s sure that Louis’s already aware of it. “Two days without you after having so much was so fucked. And you were always there, almost mocking me because I couldn’t have you. Then you were fucking me on that stage… and I felt at peace even if everything hurt. It was overwhelming how… I could look at your face and feel okay. I didn’t want anyone else hurting me. I c-can’t be away from you even if don’t want me, Louis. I can’t be without you.” 

Louis swallows the shock in his throat before it closes off his pipe and leaves him unable to breathe. But he doesn’t move from where his body is in contact with Harry’s. He can’t run away anymore. He squeezes his eyes shut and nods. “Maybe… Maybe I feel the same way. But I shouldn’t because he’ll use it against me,” Louis says. “Marco will use every thing he can to beat me into obedience and keep me that way.”

“He’s already doing it,” Harry replies. “And he’ll continue until we get out of here, Lou. I just need to get out of here… and I won’t leave without you.” 

Louis sighs sadly. “Harry… we won’t get out,” Louis says. “It’s not a simple task.”

“Don’t you fucking dare tell me escape isn’t possible,” Harry hisses as he finally looks at the older boy. “I’m not going to let myself rot in here. If getting out is impossible, I will end my life right now, Louis. I am not going to live in here. I’m not. I’m not.” 

And he breaks out in tears again. Louis realizes it’s death or victory. He will not let Harry fail. 

He worms his arm under Harry’s back and rolls him closer before mumbling a soft, “I’ll help you. I’ll help you get out.” He plays with the ends of his hair to comfort him. “Before your birthday even. You’ll spend your 17th birthday at home with your family.” 

Harry nods into his chest. Slowly, he tires himself out with his thunderstorm of emotions. 

Louis presses soft kisses on the trembling shoulder of a boy stuck in a nightmare, in a memory. “Wake up, Harry. Wake up, you’re okay, baby boy,” He whispers. He doesn’t shake him awake, out of fear that he’ll make Harry’s dream only more real. He continues to speak to him until his eyes flick open, full of confusion and fright. Harry turns his head to look at Louis and warmth fills his body comfortably, seeing a face that he trusts, that he loves. He wordlessly presses himself deeper into Louis’s body until the older boy’s back hits the wall. “Bad dream, ay?” 

“Y-yeah. It was… it was the stage. I had a dream about it,” Harry stammers. “W-What time is it?”

“2:08,” Louis reads off the clock. Harry wants to smack himself, knowing that he’s the reason Louis also can’t get any sleep. The nightmare starts as soon as he shuts his eyes. Like he can see the battle Harry is having with himself, he strokes his cheek and sighs. “It’s okay, you know? I don’t mind being a little tired. I’d prefer being tired and knowing you’re okay than anything else.” 

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this,” Harry replies. 

“But I want to,” Louis insists. 

“I’m not going back to sleep.” 

“Okay. I’ll stay awake with you and keep you company then,” Harry groans at him but Louis smiles. “We can plan an escape while we’re up.”

Harry shudders with every step he takes, the stairs not taking any mercy on him. He looks down and sees Louis standing at the bottom, ready to take the stairs three steps at a time to help if he needs. “You okay?” Louis asks. Harry nods as he continues up the stairs. Louis wishes he could carry Harry back to the room because he isn’t ready to work. He wants to provide Harry with the security he needs without worrying about the repercussions. And it kills him that he can’t. He has to let Harry go. 

Harry opens the door to the guest floor and is startled by the boy standing on the other side, trying to exit the floor. “Sorry,” Harry mumbles before he steps aside to let the boy out. Harry looks over his shoulder, seeing that Louis is still there at the staircase. “I’m fine, Louis.” 

He walks down the hall to the room he was assigned to and the guard says, “Harry Styles?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“Go inside. He’ll be here soon.” 

The door is opened and Harry enters the room. There’s a large round bed in the center of the room and mirrors on every wall. Harry studies the room while he stands awkwardly in front of the door, not knowing what to do with himself while he waits but not exactly being against waiting. He’d rather stand in one spot for hours than have this man arrive. 

His body immediately starts to tremble when the door opens behind him and shuts. He can’t turn around, too terrified of what’s to come soon. He feels calloused fingertips run down his neck and slide under his silk robe to feel his shoulder. “Do you speak or are you a stupid whore?” the voice huffs.

“Y-yes, I speak,” Harry squeaks. The man’s arm curls around his shoulder to bring his hand to his neck, getting a firm grip on it but not choking him. Not yet. The man lets go and gently slaps his cheek. 

“On the bed, slut,” he spits, pushing Harry forward. The young boy flinches at the feeling of his bum hurting as he clambers on the bed. He yelps at the unexpected hand coming down on his clothed asscheek, hard and heavy. His hands are already gripping the sheets, ready to tear holes in them if it comes to it. The older man kneels behind him and hikes up his robe before slipping his boxer shorts down. Harry’s back arches violently when another smack comes to his arse again, the lack of layers causing it to burn more. 

He feels the man slide his shaft in between his cheeks, back and forth. Harry feels his panic bubbling in his throat as the tip of his cock runs down his crack and slowly presses against his rim, popping in rather easily. He grunts in dissatisfaction before pulling out. “You’re loose, you’re used,” he grumbles as he gets off the bed. It really shouldn’t hurt Harry that a stranger said these things to him, but he still finds himself shutting his eyes to fight off the stinging in his tear ducts. “Get out, I’ll get another boy.” 

It feels humiliating in an entirely different way that he wasn’t good enough for this fucking disgusting excuse for a human. He bites his lip as he sorts his clothing and makes his way out, the guard outside giving him a look as he walks away. He hurries down the stairs, ignoring the pain striking his body, and steps into the dining room, finding Louis sitting at one of the tables by himself. The older boy nearly snaps his neck with how fast his head whips around to see who’s come through the door. He is both relieved and worried to see Harry. He stands up and rushes over, wanting to take Harry’s face in his hands but shooting himself down because he’s always been paranoid about cameras and wired rooms. “Are you okay? What happened?” He questions. 

“Fine, can we go to the room first?” Harry asks. He knows that Louis can only properly comfort him in the privacy of their room. Harry just needs a kiss or two. Louis nods before they walk out into the Hall and to the room. 

Inside, Louis presses Harry against the door and snakes his hands around the younger boy’s back, holding him tightly. He breathes contently to the sound of Harry’s heartbeat before kissing his jaw and stroking his cheek. “What happened?” Louis asks before walking Harry over to his bed. 

“Um… I was… Too loose for him, I guess,” Harry answers, feeling his face burn with embarrassment. Louis brings him back into his arms. “But I didn’t have to stay there, so that’s… not so bad.” 

Louis nods. “Yeah, I’m happy you didn’t have to go through with that dickhead,” Louis says. 

They both climb back into bed, assuming their places from earlier, Harry on his back with Louis’s arm on his chest. Harry feels a little daring and takes Louis’s hand, lacing their fingers together, before getting on his side so they face each other. 

Harry wants this above ground. 

He wants this in his bedroom after Louis leaves through the front door of his house and sneaks in through his window. 

He wants this years down the line, in their own bedroom in their own house before their two children start hitting their fists on their door and Louis has to go let them in. 

But ever since Zayn talked to him about feelings, he’s not sure what is real. Maybe he doesn’t love Louis. Maybe he just needs him, and when he doesn’t need him anymore, he’ll let Louis go. That leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

 

—

**Day Thirty**

Harry gags around the fingers in his mouth and feels his tears dripping down the sides of his face, filling up his ears. It’s uncomfortable having wet ears but it’s nothing compared to what the man on top of him is doing to his ass. Harry really doesn’t like his prostate to be abused. 

The man pulls out and shuffles up, straddling Harry’s chest. “Fuck,” He hisses as he tugs at his cock. Harry places his hands on the man’s thighs and tries to catch his breath as he waits. He shuts his eyes as his face is hit with white as the man’s moans grow more ragged. The man wipes away the come on the head of his cock with Harry’s bottom lip before trying to push passed both. Harry quickly sucks it into his mouth, he’s glad that his come doesn’t taste horribly bitter like most do. 

He lets Harry go without getting him off. It should be awkward walking through the halls with an obviously hard cock in your shorts, but it’s common and not shamed. Everyone’s too busy trying to regain ownership of their own bodies, they don’t care about anyone else’s. 

Harry steps into his empty room with a sigh. Niall said he’d be going to a one-on-one before Harry left for his. He removes his robe and tosses it on his bed before heading to the en suite. He hears the door open and decides to shut the door so Niall doesn’t see him naked but he finds Louis standing in the room instead. Louis enters the en suite and shuts the door behind him. “You okay?” He asks, sounding breathless. Harry nods. “Good.” 

The back of his legs hit the edge of his tub so he has no where to go but to step into the bath as Louis kisses him. He doesn’t understand how Louis does it, how he can flip a switch in Harry that makes him hungry. “Can I get you out of these?” Louis asks against his lips, referring to his boxer shorts. Harry nods before going to suck on his neck. Louis does his best not to stray to far from Harry’s lips as he slides his shorts off. Harry shakes them down the rest of the way. Louis looks down at Harry’s hard cock and frowns, knowing it’s been neglected for a while “He didn’t get you off?” 

Harry shakes his head. Louis drops to his knees and Harry flinches at the thud he makes against the bathtub. Louis looks up at him as he carefully takes Harry’s cock in his hand and brings his lips to the head, sucking gently. Harry leans against the cold tile and watches Louis closely as he licks further down Harry’s shaft before taking him completely in his mouth. Harry hits his head against the wall as he moans. 

Louis wants Harry to feel in control for once. So he pulls off, pumping his cock as he asks, “Want to fuck my mouth?” Harry, with his bitten lips parted just slightly, nods. Louis straightens out his back and holds his hands behind his back. Harry stares at Louis, so beautiful and inviting with his mouth open wide for his cock. He quickly kisses the top of his forehead before guiding his cock in Louis’s mouth. 

“Tell me to stop whenever,” Harry says to Louis who has a mouthful of cock. Harry pulls his hips back and then brings them forward. Louis concentrates on breathing and not gagging. He keeps his eyes trained on Harry, no matter how wet they become. Harry wipes away any tears that escape. 

Louis places a hand on Harry’s hip and he stills immediately. “Want you inside me,” Louis says with a string of saliva still connected to Harry’s cock and his lips. 

Louis is pressed against the tile, cock trapped between his stomach and wall, with one leg held up by Harry’s hand. Harry pushes the tip of his cock passed the pink ring of muscle and hears Louis whine. The older boy brings his head back enough to suck on Harry’s neck. “More, baby,” he groans against his neck so Harry feeds him more of his cock. Louis throws his head forward and places his forehead against the wall, trying to focus because Harry has a really big cock. He’s known this ever since he saw him naked the first time, but it’s different when actually experiencing it. Harry drags his cock out until only half of it is inside of Louis before returning all of it back inside. Louis tries to stifle a whine by biting his lip, but it’s fruitless and in the en suite, his whine just bounces off the walls. Harry repeats the movement with his hips, doing his best not to come. He kisses Louis’s shoulder and gets his hand around his cock. Louis rocks his own hips, alternating between filling himself up with Harry’s cock and fucking Harry’s fist. 

He’s too into it, he doesn’t realize he’s holding onto the shower handle until the water shoots out at them. Luckily, it isn’t freezing cold but they do get very startled. “Fuck, I’m sorry!” Louis says as he turns around to find Harry giggling. He can’t stop the smile from spreading across his lips. 

“It’s okay, Lou,” Harry replies, carding his fingers through Louis’s now wet hair. “Proper shower sex now.” 

He brings his hands behind Louis’s thighs and picks him up. He holds Louis against the wall to guide his cock back inside his hole. “I’m probably not going to last long,” Louis admits before Harry starts bouncing him on his cock. 

“That’s— okay, — I’m gonna — come too,” Harry says around his moans. 

“Come inside me, please,” Louis mewls before pulling Harry in for a kiss. He wraps his own fist around his cock and thumbs at his slit. “Gonna come. Go— I’m coming, Harry. Oh, Ha—”

Louis’s face turns soft as he lets out a loud moan and shoots his come, tightening his hole around Harry’s cock as he does. Harry sticks himself as deep as he can inside of Louis before filling him up with his come. He lazily sucks on Louis’s neck, completely spent. “Louis?” he whispers. Louis hums in response. “Are you… Are you going to regret this too?” 

Louis frowns and shakes his head. “No… I didn’t even regret the first time,” he confesses. “I was just being… stupid and didn’t want to face my feelings. Sorry.” 

Harry finally helps Louis get his feet back on the ground. Louis places a hand on Harry’s jaw and smiles at him. Harry kisses him sweetly. “Are we gonna try?” Harry asks softly, timidly. 

“Yeah, we’re gonna try,” Louis answers. Harry bites back a large smile before kissing Louis again. When he pulls away, Louis says, “We’re getting out next week.”


End file.
